


Til Death Do Us Part

by gryvon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Cunnilingus, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, F/M, Facials, Fingerfucking, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Ghosts, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Pegging, Polyamory, Polypack, Sex Toys, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Stilinski Sees Ghosts, Temporary Character Death, Threesome - F/M/M, Top Derek Hale, Vaginal Sex, season 3 never happened, so much sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:10:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2443253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryvon/pseuds/gryvon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard kills Stiles in the basement of the Argent house while Erica and Boyd watch. Things just aren't the same after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Gerard’s goons shove Stiles down into the Argent’s basement, his first thought isn't that he's going to die there.

When Gerard’s goons shove Stiles down the stairs to the Argents’ basement, his first thought isn't that he's going to die there. Who thinks they’re going to die? Well, he does occasionally, but usually that’s because someone is actively trying to kill him at the time. Namely Peter when he was a raging, murderous Alpha. And Scott that one time. Or was it two times? And Jackson when he's that crazy, mind-controlled lizard thing. So far it's been entirely limited to werewolves and were-adjacents trying to kill him, not egotistical hunters. Not geriatric old men.

Gerard threatens to kill him, of course, like any stereotypical villain. He talks about Scott finding his body and how it’ll be a message and how Stiles shouldn’t have run with wolves, but Stiles doesn't believe Gerard’s actually going to kill him. Not really. It’s just an empty threat to scare him. He’s dealt with enough schoolyard bullies—and actual predators—to know when to call a bluff. Gerard is just another teenage bully wrapped in an old man’s body.

That's what gives him the courage to spit in Gerard's face and tell him to go to rot in hell with his dead daughter.

His words trigger a nerve. That isn't unusual for the things Stiles says. It is unusual for him to be dealing with a power-hungry, enraged psychopath at the time, so he probably should have expected what had started out as a minor scare tactic to turn into a severe beat-down. Gerard goes at him again with his fists. Pain blossoms in Stiles's face, in his chest and arms and stomach. Gerard screams at him. He’s practically frothing at the mouth as he goes at Stiles.

Then Stiles's head bounces off the cement floor and there's a loud crack. Pain shoots through him, like a lightning strike straight down his spine, lighting up every nerve with electric fire. He gasps. Doesn’t even get out a scream as his body seizes up.

The basement disappears and everything goes white.

He feels light, weightless. It’s like he’s dizzy, but not. Like all sense of space and orientation have left him and he’s just adrift. There is no pain. There’s no feeling at all. There’s nothing but the bright white all around him.

This is what dying must feel like.

He's dying.

"Oh, Stanislaw."

That's his mother's voice. He tries to turn to find it but there’s nothing there. He doesn’t even know how to turn. Movement simply isn’t an option.

"Mama?" His voice is small. Barely more than a child’s whisper. It’s not a sound he’s used to, not something that would come out of his mouth now, but he thinks it’s familiar. He thinks this is what he sounded like when he was small. Before his mother died.

His only response is the sound of flapping wings and then the light is gone. He's back in the basement. He gasps as horrible pain assaults him once more, shocking him into consciousness. Is it possible to be hyper-conscious? That’s what it feels like. He goes from feeling nothing to feeling everything—every scrape, every bruise, every aching muscle. His body arches against the cold stone floor and he sucks in a breath so deep that it makes his lungs ache.

To his left, something moves jerkily. He has to blink a few times before his vision focuses. Erica and Boyd are staring at him with wide eyes from where they’re suspended, barely two feet away. He could reach out and touch Erica’s boot. Duct tape muffles whatever Erica tries to say.

He rolls over with a pained groan and pushes himself up to stand on unstable feet. He shakes his head a few times to clear it. He sways in place. He feels dizzy. "W-what?" His voice is hoarse. He licks his lips. He needs a drink badly. There’s a table nearby. He leans on it as he gets his bearings. Gerard and his goons are gone. "They just left me here with you? Stupid."

Erica looks like she’s been crying, but Stiles imagines that has more to do with the electricity keeping her docile than anything that happened to Stiles. He hobbles over to the machine generating the current and shuts it off. He has no idea what Gerard was thinking leaving Stiles down here and not tied up like the other too. Maybe he thought the beating was enough to keep Stiles passed out.

Stiles plays lacrosse. Stiles plays lacrosse with Scott, who, for the longest time, was unable to aim for anything but Stiles’s head. Like hell a few dozen bruises were going to keep him down. He's had worse.

He heads to Erica first. Movement’s getting easier, at least. No doubt he's just stiff from lying on the cold cement floor. Erica stares at him as he pulls the tape off of her mouth and then stretches up onto his toes to get a look at the ties around her hands. They’re some kind of wire and eww, that’s totally blood on her wrists.

"I need wire cutters," he says as he turns away.

"You were dead, Stiles. I heard you die."

Stiles blinks, stills. He stares down at himself, at his pale hands. He presses two fingers to his throat, just to feel the steady pulse throbbing in his veins. He doesn't feel dead, and he says so. "I don’t feel dead. Heart's still ticking."

He pulls open cabinets until he finds a set of clippers that look like they’ll do the job. 

"I..." Erica cuts herself off.

Stiles eyes her warily when he turns. He thinks maybe the electricity is frying her brain. He should get them out of there before the current does any more damage.

He snips the wires holding her up and then tries to steady her with one arm. They both almost fall as her weight presses against him. She rights herself first, pulling her hands free from the wire and then grabbing him with one clawed hand to steady him. It puts holes in the front of his jersey but he’s past caring. Once they’re both righted, he moves to release Boyd.

Before he can, Erica envelopes him in a tight hug. It hurts, but everything hurts right now, even his toes. "I'm so glad you're not dead."

Stiles feels strangely warm. The only people who ever hug him are Scott, Melissa, and his dad. He and Erica are not friends, but Stiles feels like they’re comrades. Fighting the same fight. "You too, Catwoman. Let's get Boyd down and then go find Derek."

A thought comes to him as soon as he’s done cut the cords away from Boyd’s wrists and he looks at the two werewolves. "Unless you were still planning on ditching this hellhole?" He shifts on his feet and looks at the floor, dreading the answer that he knows they're going to give. There’s a big pool of blood where he had been laying and he quickly turns away before he throws up. He doesn’t remember bleeding. He can check for cuts later.

"I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I’d offer you a ride out of town, but I don’t have my Jeep and I... I can’t leave. Scott’s out there and Derek’s out there and my dad... whatever Gerard plans to do, I’m not going to let him. I can’t let them face it alone and I have to try... something?" He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He doesn’t know where Gerard ran off to. He doesn’t know where Scott and Derek are or if the kanima’s causing problems again or what’s going on. "I don’t know. I don’t even know if there’s anything to do, but when Scott needs me, I want to be here for him."

"We’re not leaving," Erica says. If he didn't know any better, he'd say there were tears in her eyes. "We’ll stay too." She glances at Boyd and some silent conversation takes place between them. "We want to help."

Stiles stares at her. She has an out and she’s not taking it. That’s... that’s huge. "Alright. Okay. So, step one, let’s get away from these psychos. Do you hear any of them upstairs?"

Erica shakes her head and Stiles takes the lead. The basement door isn’t even locked. Amateurs. There’s no one upstairs so they let themselves out the front door. Stiles doesn’t feel safe until they’re a few houses down and out of sight. He doesn't have pockets so he turns to the other two. "I don't suppose either of you have a phone?"

They shake their heads in unison and Stiles groans. "Walking it is, then."

It feels like hours until they leave suburbia and enter the edges of civilization. He makes a beeline for the first gas station he sees and then praises the gods of old, antiquated technology that the place has a payphone. He dials his dad collect, which is apparently the right thing to do because John sounds frantic when he answers. "Hello? Stiles?"

"Yeah, dad. It's me. Can you come pick me up?"

"Stiles, I need you to tell me where you are. Can you do that?"

He frowns and looks around for street signs. "Yeah. I'm at the QuikMart on the corner of..." He squints at the sign. "Cherrywood and Olmstead?"

"Good." John takes a deep breath, loud enough that it carries through the receiver. His exhale is shaky. "That's good. Stay where you are. Just stay where you are and I'll be right there." Stiles stares at the phone as the line goes dead, for once, does exactly what John says. He's pretty sure that was real worry in John's voice. He hasn't heard that since his mom died.

He glances over at Erica and Boyd, half expecting them to have disappeared while he wasn’t looking, but they're right behind him. He debates going into the store part of the gas station but it's warm enough outside and they look like they just escaped some serial killer's murderer room.

Stiles bounces on his feet and looks at Boyd, then Erica. "So, what's new?"

They're in the midst of a mutual bitchfest over how much they all hate Kafka, with an impassioned aside from Erica about how they always read books by dead white men, when the sound of approaching sirens cuts them off. Stiles's eyes get progressively wider as he realizes the sirens are heading toward them. John's cruiser nearly skids into the parking lot, not even stopping in a parking spot. John is out in seconds and striding toward Stiles like he's about to be arrested. Instead, John pulls Stiles into what is possibly the tightest hug Stiles has ever received.

John pulls away to hold Stiles at arm's length. His eyes rake over every one of Stiles's visible injuries—and Erica's and Boyd's—and a thunderous look crosses his face. "What the hell happened? Who did this?"

Erica looks stunned. Boyd remains silent, so it's up to Stiles to lie. "Just some guys from the game. I mouthed off, they jumped me, Boyd and Erica tried to help."

"I want names. Whoever did this... they’re not getting away with it."

Stiles knows the fact that they're nowhere near the school has not escaped John's notice. John doesn't question it, just squeezes Stiles tight once more and then tells them to get in the car.

John drops Erica and Boyd off at their respective homes, then parks right next to Stiles's Jeep where Stiles had left it in the school parking lot and waits, cruiser idling while Stiles clamors clumsily into his Jeep as best as his sore body will allow. Stiles waves at John from the driver’s seat but John just sits there, waiting until Stiles starts the Jeep and then following him all the way home.

When they get into the house, his dad hugs again and Stiles doesn't complain, even though it aggravates his bruises. He doesn’t know what the hell’s going on with Scott or Derek or Gerard, but he thinks that maybe, this one time, he’s done enough for one day.

* * *

Stiles wakes to a blast of cold air and glowing red eyes in the dark. He startles, half-formed nightmares of Peter making him scramble away before his rational brain takes over and reminds him that Peter’s dead. The desk lamp flicks on, casting Derek’s face in soft light. The bastard’s smirking at him, like he finds Stiles’s fear funny.

"You scared me," Stiles says as he peels himself off of the wall. He shakes himself, trying to push off the last dredges of sleep. "Shit. Are you okay? I thought Gerard was going after you."

"It's been taken care of."

Stiles waits for Derek to elaborate but he doesn't. "And?"

Derek shrugs and settles into the armchair in the corner like it’s his throne. "And Erica said you died."

"What?" Stiles moves until he's sitting up on his bed, facing Derek. "Don't change the subject." He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. Why do people keep saying that? He keeps his voice low, trying not to wake his dad. "Obviously not dead."

"She said your heart stopped."

Stiles blinks. She hadn’t mentioned that to him. His fingers find a pulse-point on his throat. His pulse is steady still, if a little fast from his earlier scare. "Still beating."

"I know. I can hear it. She said..." Derek stares at him for a long moment. "Never mind." He turns away, staring into the shadows. Silence reigns for a several minutes. Stiles waits, knowing Derek is here for a reason, but also just kind of glad to see Derek alive and in one piece. "They were going to leave. Boyd and Erica. Isaac too. I thought I’d lost them all, my entire pack, and somehow you convinced them to stay. You brought my pack back to me."

Stiles shakes his head and stares down at his hands clasped in his lap. "I didn’t... I mean, I asked them. If they were leaving, but I didn’t say anything inspiring or anything. I didn’t try to talk them out of it. I just..." He chances a glance up. Derek is focused on Stiles and their eyes meet. "I just said that I wasn’t going to leave."

"Why?"

Stiles frowns. "What?"

"Why wouldn’t you leave?" Derek leans forward. He braces his elbows on his knees and stares at Stiles like he’s seeing him for the first time. "If you had a chance for a fresh start, wouldn't you take it?"

Heat rushes through Stiles, only some of it going to his face. He would be lying if he said having Derek's full attention on him didn't do things to his insides. He has to look away, so he stares at the door to his room and focuses on the fact that his dad is sleeping only a few feet away. "My dad’s here. And Scott. I wouldn’t leave them behind."

"There’s more."

Stiles’s blush deepens. He shrugs. "With Scott comes his mom, and I guess..." His cheeks feel like they’re burning. "I guess I’m invested in keeping you alive, too." He laughs, but the sound comes out strained, hollowed out by his efforts to keep quiet. "I mean, I’ve put enough work into it. It’d be a shame to waste all that effort."

When Stiles dares to look at Derek again, he's not in the armchair. Instead, Derek is right in front of him. He doesn’t startle this time, but his mind does wander to dangerous places given Stiles’s direct view of Derek’s crotch. Sue him and his propensity for hopeless crushes.

Then Derek touches him, a light grip on his wrist as Derek raises it toward his lips, and Stiles’s whole body flushes with warmth and want. He looks up at Derek’s red eyes and his breath catches.

"Do you want the bite?"

Stiles swallows. He knows what this means to Derek. It’s a gift. Something Stiles has earned. He thinks back to Peter and it feels so very different from when Peter offered.

Stiles almost says yes. What comes out instead is "go on a date with me." He's not even aware of what he’s saying until the words are gone from his lips and it's too late to take them back. He flushes, glad that it's too dark to really see how very red he's gotten. He can feel his embarrassment in his toes. He tries to pull his wrist away but Derek’s grip tightens slightly, not painful, just holding him.

"What?" Derek looks, of all things, surprised. Stiles wasn’t even sure that facial expression existed in Derek’s repertoire but Stiles has managed to pull it out of the dusty closet Derek had stashed it in.

"Never mind." Stiles looks away. He tugs on his wrist but Derek still won’t let go. "Ignore what I said. You're with Erica anyways."

"I'm not with Erica."

Stiles's eyes widen and he turns back. "But I thought...." Erica certainly acted like she and Derek were a thing. But then she also acted like that with Boyd.

Derek meets Stiles’s eyes and then bends down to press a kiss against the inside of Stiles’s wrist. "I'll go on a date with you, if that's what you want."

Stiles is pretty sure he’s about to die from blood loss because all of his blood is in his face which means none of it is pumping through his heart. "I... I do. Want that. But only if you want that. Not, like, as a favor or because you think you owe me but-" A hand covers his mouth, mercifully cutting off the rest of Stiles’s word vomit.

Derek smiles. It’s like that smile he gave Tara at the station but this time it’s directed at Stiles and Stiles is pretty sure he’s about to pop an erection.

Derek pulls both of his hands away. Stiles feels their loss physically, the air too cold against his skin where Derek’s heat once was. "I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to."

Stiles nods dumbly and watches as Derek moves back to the window. Derek pauses. "I'm glad you're not dead."

"Me too."

Then Derek is gone and Stiles is left with the horrible and awesome realization that he has a date with Derek Hale.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets a text just as he's staring in the fridge wondering what he wants to have for a second dinner. _Be outside in ten._ Stiles's heart does backflips because that's Derek's number and Derek texted him and oh, god, is this their date? Already?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this part forward there's going to be a lot of sex. Like, a lot. Also plot, but mostly sex.

Stiles lets himself into the McCall house bright and early the next morning. Melissa's car is in the driveway, so he sets the container of blueberry muffins he'd stress-baked at six a.m. on the table where they're sure to be noticed. He kicks his shoes off before attempting the stairs with a valiant attempt to be quiet. Scott's still asleep when Stiles opens the bedroom door. He vaults onto the bed, landing heavily on Scott's chest.

Scott shoots upright with a shout that Stiles quickly muffles by slapping a hand over Scott's mouth. He can see the thought process on Scott's face as he goes from half-asleep to fear to recognition. Stiles removes his hand.

"Stiles, what-" Scott starts, far too loud.

Stiles hisses and waves his hand. "Quiet. Your mom's sleeping."

Scott rolls his eyes but he at least lowers his voice. He pushes Stiles off of him with one hand, thankfully sending Stiles rolling onto the other half of the bed rather than tumbling to the floor. "What are you doing?"

Stiles bounces as he repositions himself upright. "You weren't answering your phone."

"Because I was sleeping." Scott's voice raises in exasperation and Stiles shushes him back down. "Stiles," Scott hisses.

Stiles huffs. "What? Last I knew, Gerard was coming after you and Derek with Jackson the murder lizard and Derek was less than forthcoming with details."

Scott stares at him. "You saw Derek?"

Stiles shrugs. "He came by to thank me for saving Erica and Boyd."

"You saved Erica and Boyd?"

Stiles smacks a palm against his face. "That was implied by that sentence. Gerard had them. I was able to get them out."

Scott's eyes widen. "Holy shit! You broke into Allison's house?"

Stiles stares. He squints and tilts his head. "What? Do you not see this?" He points to the black eye and bruises on his face. "The only breaking was my face under Gerard's fists."

Scott's eyes open further. "What?" Stiles doesn't even bother to try to keep Scott quiet. "Gerard hit you?"

Stiles pushes himself off the bed at the same time as the door opens. Melissa frowns at Stiles, shakes her head, and then frowns at Scott. "Do you boys know what time it is?"

"I brought muffins," Stiles says, in way of apology, but he can't help pinning Scott with a glare. "Seriously, though, you didn't even notice when Gerard's goons kidnapped me from the game? Didn't even cross your mind to wonder 'hey, where's Stiles?'"

"I was distracted. Jackson died. Temporarily."

Stiles opens his mouth and then snaps it shut before he says something he'll regret. "You know what, I'll catch up on Monday. Next time I call, answer your damn phone."

He brushes past Melissa on his way out the door. She catches up to him on the stairs. "Stiles, wait." He pauses at the bottom of the stairs. She steers him into the kitchen with a gentle hand on his shoulder and points him toward one of the chairs. "Did anyone take a look at that?"

He shakes his head.

Melissa tisks and rummages through the cabinets. "I couldn't help but catch some of your conversation." She turns with a large Tupperware tub and then shines a light in his eyes.

"I don't have a concussion."

"You'll forgive me if check for myself. But, no, you don't have a concussion." She pulls out a small container of white cream and rubs it lightly over his bruises. "You should put some ice on that eye."

"Okay."

Melissa squats so she's at eyelevel. "Gerard Argent did this?"

Stiles sighs. He had hoped she'd missed that part. "Are you going to tell my dad?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"Do I have to?"

Melissa pins him with a stare. "I don't know what you told him last night, but he's going to need to know the truth. Sooner rather than later."

Stiles lets his head flop back against the chair. "I know."

She claps him on the knees as she stands. "As long as you know. Thank you for the muffins. I'll quit with the third degree."

"Thanks. I have a feeling I'll get enough of that when I get home."

Melissa snorts. "You have fun with that. Do you need an icepack?"

Stiles shakes his head and stands. "Trust me, I'm stocked up." His first aid kit got a serious upgrade when he started running with wolves. If there's one thing he's used to, it's patching himself up.

* * *

John's awake when Stiles gets home. He cringes as he sees John pouring himself a cup of coffee. He tries to shut the door and sneak upstairs but he's not more than two steps away from the door when John says "Have a seat."

Stiles sighs and kicks his shoes off, no longer bothering with subtlety. "Good morning to you, too. Not working today?"

"I go in at noon, so we've got plenty of time to have a little chat." John sets his coffee down on one side of the table then points to the opposite chair, where there's a pen and a notepad waiting. "I want names. I want details."

Stiles slumps in the assigned chair. "I don't know their names." It's a lie, but he doesn't have any other option. He can't get his dad involved. Images of all the deputies that Jackson and Matt killed flash through his head and he makes a promise to himself that his dad won't be one of them.

John taps his finger on the pad. "Then give me details. Hair colors. Heights. Whatever you can remember."

Stiles shifts in his seat. He plucks at his sleeve. "It was dark."

"Stiles."

He closes his eyes to avoid seeing the disappointed look on his dad's face. "Can we just drop it? Please? They were just some stupid punks."

"Stupid-" John's voice is sharp and angry. "No. No, we can't just drop it. They kidnapped you. They hurt you."

Stiles's gut twists like there's something rotten inside. He forces the words out, hating each one. "It's my fault. I mouthed off. I deserved it."

He's not quite sure how much of that is a lie. It was his fault. He's the human who chose to run with wolves. He's the one who wanted to go looking for a dead body in the woods. They wouldn't be in this mess—any of it—if it wasn't for him. It was inevitable that he'd face off against one of the hunters, he just happened to have the misfortune of saying the wrong thing to the wrong one.

"Deserved? Stiles, no matter what you said to them, that's no reason for violence. They could have killed you."

Stiles almost snorts. According to Erica, Gerard had killed him, but that seems absurd. He wouldn't be sitting here, having this conversation if he'd died. Instead, Gerard would have gone through with his plan of leaving Stiles in a ditch for Scott to find.

Assuming, of course, that Scott even realized that Stiles was missing in the first place, which he apparently hadn't.

"Stiles." He pulls his attention away from thoughts of Scott and Gerard and looks up at his father. It's hard. There's worry on John's face and it reminds him too much of the days when his mother was just starting to get sick. Stiles looks down at the table instead. "If you don't want to talk about it... if you don't want to push it, then I won't. It's your call. But we're going to talk about this. Just you and me. Off the record. I don't like the way things have settled between us and we need to fix it, okay? I want to fix it."

"Okay." What else is there to say? He wants to fix things between him and his dad too, he's just not sure how to do it with the whole werewolf thing sitting like a gulf between them. That doesn't mean he doesn't want to try.

"Okay," John says, a hint of a smile on his face. "I'm going to get ready for work. Do you need anything before I head out?"

Stiles shakes his head. "I'll be fine. I left you some muffins for breakfast. We have leftovers I can work through later."

"You're the best, kid." John claps him on the shoulder and something dark coils inside of Stiles.

He's not the best. He's a fucking liar and they both know it. It's going to take more than a few muffins to fix his lies, assuming there's anything left to fix at all.

* * *

Stiles gets a text just as he's staring in the fridge wondering what he wants to have for a second dinner. _Be outside in ten._ Stiles's heart does backflips because that's Derek's number and Derek texted him and oh, god, is this their date? Already? Shit. Fuck. He has ten minutes to get ready and he's in his pajamas. He races up to his bedroom and throws on the first things he finds, then takes the shirt off because button ups don't go with jeans and what if this isn't their date? What if this is about Gerard or Jackson or something supernatural? He's still not up to date on who's dead and who's not.

There's a honk outside and Stiles pulls on the first t-shirt he finds, because fuck it. When he steps outside Derek's sleek black Camaro is parked along the curb.

Derek shoves the door open from the inside. "Get in."

Stiles does, because when a hot man invites you into his hot car for what might be a hot date, one does not say no. He's halfway through buckling his seatbelt when the car takes off. "What's up?" He asks, because it's not immediately obvious. Derek is dressed the same as every time Stiles sees him.

Derek glances sideways at him and his lips are turned up in a smirk. "I thought you wanted a date."

Stiles blinks. "Yeah. Yes. I do."

Derek makes a gesture with one hand. "Well then."

"Oh." He startles. "Shit. I should have worn something nicer. Can we go back?" He cranes his head behind them. They're not that far up the street.

Stiles is only half sure that the sound that comes from Derek's mouth is a laugh. He's never heard Derek laugh. He has nothing for comparison. "Stiles, I've know you for a year. The time for first impressions is long gone."

He sits back in his seat and tries not to fidget. Too much. "I look like a domestic abuse victim."

Derek glances over and then turns back to the road. "You look fine. Besides, we're going to the movies. No one's going to be looking at you."

Stiles blinks. "The movies?"

"There was that thing you said you wanted to see."

Stiles's eyebrows raise and then furrow. He stares at Derek like maybe he can somehow sense motive on a werewolf. It doesn't work. "I said that to Scott. At school. Have you been spying on me?" The thought strangely leaves him feeling flustered in a good way. He's not sure what that says about him. Or Derek. Or his impending maybe relationship with Derek.

Derek rolls his eyes. "School, where Erica, Isaac, and Boyd also attend with their enhanced hearing. This isn't exactly James Bond."

"Oh." Stiles thinks about it for a second. "Do you actually want to see the movie or are you just humoring me? Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I'm all about going on a date to the movies. This is me, all in."

Derek's smirk is in full force. "I like movies."

"So how are we...." He makes a motion with his hands.

"Pushing air?"

"Getting in."

Derek takes his eyes off the road for a split-second to give Stiles a 'bitch, please' look. "Through the front door?"

"They usually require you to pay for that and I'm tapped on funds after fixing my Jeep."

Derek rolls his eyes again. "I have money."

"Then why do you live in a junky old warehouse?"

"Because then I won't care when hunters burn it down."

Stiles goes pale and stares down at his hands. "Oh." What else can he say to that? It suddenly makes a whole lot of sense. "I'm sorry. I didn't-"

Derek snorts. "Stop. I didn't tell you that because I want your pity."

Stiles nods. The rest of the drive passes in silence. Derek's silent by nature and Stiles is too worried of putting his foot in his mouth again.

They park at the theater. True to his word, Derek pays, even splurges for some movie popcorn with extra butter and two large sodas. The movie is good. They don't quite hold hands through it but Stiles's hand lingers dangerously close to Derek's on the armrest.

The car is silent as they drive back, but this time, it's pleasantly so. Stiles is drunk on popcorn and movie and Derek. It only gets worse when they park outside of Stiles's house. Stiles turns to say goodbye, but when he does Derek is far too close. Derek's hand lands gently on his face and then there are lips. Warm lips. On his face. On his lips to be exact. Kissing. They're kissing.

"Oh," Stiles wants to say, but his lips are busy.

It's his first kiss, by any real standards, and it's one hell of a kiss.

When Derek pulls away, Stiles follows, only stopped by Derek's hand on Stiles's chest. Derek chuckles and Stiles would do anything to hear that sound again.

"Do you want to come in?" Stiles says, thinking of more kissing. They could totally get in more kissing before his dad gets home.

Derek shakes his head but he's smiling. "You don't want me to come in."

Stiles blinks, frowns. "I do. I just said that. There could be more kissing. I like the kissing. With you. Kissing you. That was good."

Derek's eyes flash red for a second and the way he looks at Stiles makes Stiles feel a little bit like prey. It's not a bad feeling. "It wouldn't end with just kissing," Derek says, the words almost like a promise.

"Oh." Stiles thinks about that for all of a second. It's not a hard decision to make, not when he's been pushing his virgin status for far too long and his dad won't be home until late. And it's Derek. Stiles isn't sure when his crush on Lydia died. Maybe sometime after prom. But his crush on Derek is still going strong and there's no way in hell Stiles is going to turn down this once in a lifetime offer.

Stiles licks his lips. Derek's eyes trace the movement of his tongue and that only makes Stiles want harder.

"Come inside," Stiles says.

"Okay."

Derek leaves the Camaro parked in front of the house and follows Stiles inside. As soon as they're on the other side of the front door, Derek spins them, pinning Stiles against the door and kissing him breathless. He forgets about the bruises that still make movement a little stiff. His keys fall from his hand and he clutches at Derek's jacket.

God, he likes kissing. He also possibly has a thing for Derek pinning him to flat surfaces. He likes the feeling of Derek's body pressed against his, almost squeezing him between Derek's chest and the door. It's a pleasant kind of weight that stills something inside of Stiles, makes him go from anxious ball of nerves to pliant putty.

Still, there are better places to be doing this than in the front hallway.

Stiles pushes Derek away with a hand against Derek's chest. He's surprised how easily Derek moves for him. "Upstairs."

Derek's eyes study his face. "Are you sure?"

"Very." Stiles bends to grab his keys, doesn't miss the way Derek's eyes linger on his ass. His blush goes all the way to his ears. He reaches forward, twines his fingers with Derek's, all the while expecting Derek to pull away. He doesn't. "Come on."

Stiles leads the way up to his room. Derek has been there countless times, so it's not like he needs the tour, but he's never come through the front door. Also, Stiles really just wants to hold Derek's hand. It feels so illicit, leading Derek up to his bedroom, like he's doing something wrong. He kind of is. Derek's older and Stiles isn't quite eighteen yet, and he's pretty sure there are laws against this sort of thing but he doesn't care. As long as his dad doesn't find out.

He drops his keys on his desk and makes sure to lock his door behind them, just in case. Derek's on him as soon as the lock turns, mouthing at the back of Stiles's neck, hands a possessive weight on Stiles's hips. Stiles puts his palms flat against the door to keep from swaying into it, and he's very much aware of how it looks—Stiles turned towards the door with Derek's body a hard line against his back. Part of him would be okay with everything happening right here, with Derek pushing both of their pants down and taking Stiles against the door, but he has a feeling that would not be good for the lingering aches in his body. Besides, he wants more than this. He wants to feel all of Derek wrapped around him.

Stiles turns and tugs Derek's along by his jacket until they tumble together onto the bed. Derek is a heavy weight on top of him, and Stiles definitely likes the feeling of being held down. Derek's lips are amazing, not that Stiles has much to compare them to, but they feel amazing. Each kiss sends shivers down his spine. He could spend hours kissing Derek.

Warm hands slide under his shirt, pushing the fabric up and away, baring his stomach to the chill air. Stiles blushes, knowing exactly how pale and skinny—and bruised—he looks, and how very unattractive that must be. He tries to push his shirt back down, even though that's counterproductive to the whole having sex thing. Derek's hands close over his, stilling him and pushing the shirt all the way up to Stiles's armpits.

"I know I'm not-"

"You're everything," Derek says, cutting Stiles off with a kiss. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Then Derek's pulling away, sliding down the bed to mouth along Stiles's chest. Derek hovers over Stiles's left nipple, just breathing for a second before his tongue flicks out. Sparks go through Stiles and he jolts. He feels himself harden instantly and spreads his legs. Derek settles more firmly in the space between them. He does the thing with his tongue again and then drops down to lightly bite the hard nub of Stiles's nipple. Stiles nearly comes on the spot.

Then Derek switches to the other side, repeating the process and Stiles whimpers. God, who knew his nipples were an erogenous zone? Not him. He'd never really thought about someone playing with his nipples, but when Derek does it, it's like he's sending electricity straight to Stiles's dick. "Derek?" The word comes out like a whine.

Derek hums around Stiles's nipple and Stiles has to think very unsexy things about Coach to keep from coming. His hand twines in Derek's hair but he can't bring himself to pull Derek away, not with the amazing things he's doing with his tongue.

Stiles's attempt at speech comes out thin and desperate. "I'm not going to last if you keep doing that."

Derek pulls away and smiles. His hand presses against the flat of Stiles's stomach, thankfully avoiding Stiles's bruises. "That eager for the main event?"

"I don't exactly have much staying power. Lack of practice."

"We'll have to fix that." Derek's grin is all teeth and Stiles moans because that means this isn't a one-time thing, this isn't all he gets. There will be more and the very thought of getting to have that, getting to be with Derek blows his mind. "For now, how about I take the edge off?"

He's about to ask what Derek has in mind, but then Derek is unbuttoning Stiles's fly and he gets the picture. He gets where this is going loud and clear and there is no fucking way he will say no to that.

Derek kisses a line down Stiles's stomach, leaving wet, tingling skin in his wake as he pulls down Stiles's zipper. All Stiles can do is watch in abject fascination as Derek reaches in and pulls out Stiles's cock. No one's ever touched Stiles there before. He shivers and then shivers again as Derek kisses Stiles on the stomach once more. Then Derek's shifting lower, mouth opening. Stiles whimpers. Derek's mouth closes around him and Stiles can't help it, he shoots his load.

Derek just takes it, swallowing Stiles down like a pro. Stiles's face is red and he's babbling apologies until Derek finishes swallowing, moves up, cuts Stiles off with a fierce kiss that tastes like salt and bitter and hey, Stiles is tasting his own come on Derek's mouth.

"It's okay," Derek say, voice a low whisper against Stiles's skin as he kisses Stiles's cheek. "You did good. You were good." His kisses trail down Stiles's neck and his hands are rubbing against Stiles's sides and every inch of Stiles's skin feels alive and waiting.

"Do you have any lube?" Derek asks into Stiles's shoulder.

Stiles nods dumbly and reaches up, fumbling at the space between mattress and headboard until he finds what he's looking for. Derek takes it from him and then helps Stiles push his pants the rest of the way off. 

"I want to fuck you," Derek says and Stiles nearly comes again at the thought. "Can I? Is that... is it okay?"

Stiles nods so hard he almost smacks Derek with his face. "Yes. Yeah. Please."

Derek pulls back and smiles down at Stiles, making Stiles's whole body turn to goo. He watches, fascinated, as Derek tosses his jacket aside and then pulls off his shirt, revealing amazingly muscular abs. Stiles wants to touch them. He belatedly realizes he's allowed to touch them. He runs a hand reverently over the muscles, feeling the way Derek's flesh ripples underneath his palm. Derek smiles. It's a soft smile, almost gentle, and his hands unbuckle his belt before unzipping his pants.

Stiles's hands still against Derek's chest and he watches, enthralled as Derek pushes his jeans down, revealing an absolutely amazing cock. Stiles's mouth waters. He wants to take Derek into his mouth, feel the weight of him on his lips. He wants to spread his legs open wider and invite Derek to push inside of him.

He wants.

"Like what you see?" Derek says with a smirk.

It's such a cheesy line but all Stiles can do is nod. Derek discards his clothes in a pile on the floor and then reaches for Stiles, removing the last bits of clothing between them.

They're naked. Stiles is naked in bed with Derek and that thick cock that's standing up proud between Derek's legs is going to go inside of him.

Stiles has never wanted anything more in his life. He shifts his legs apart, pushing them as wide as they can go and then reaches for Derek. He tugs at Derek's arm, making Derek smile, and then pulls him back down. Derek's cock brushes against Stiles's thigh as Derek settles on top of him for a moment. The kiss Stiles pulls Derek into is desperate. He wants so much, right now, and it's like his body is pulling him in a thousand directions. He wants everything Derek can give him.

Derek pulls back and Stiles watches with bated breath as Derek pours out a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. "Breathe," Derek says, and then he's reaching under Stiles, pressing a finger to Stiles's entrance.

Stiles breathes and then finds out why he needs to as Derek pushes a finger slowly in. Stiles gasps and tries to jerk away but Derek's free hand presses down on his stomach, keeping him still. He's never touched himself there. He's thought about it, but he's never been brave enough.

"Shhh." Stiles didn't even know Derek's voice could sound so soft. "It'll get better."

It hurts. Not as much as when Gerard was beating the crap out of him in the basement, but more than a papercut. Stiles knows anal sex is supposed to feel good. He's done his research and watched a lot of porn. He knows it gets good but all he can feel right now is stinging pain. "Promise?"

Derek presses his lips to Stiles's temple. He kisses Stiles's cheeks. "I promise it will feel so good. Just try to relax. I'm going to make you feel so good."

Stiles nods and tries to will his body to relax. He tries, but it's hard to relax when there's a finger slowly inching inside of him. He feels it when Derek's knuckles hit his entrance and then Derek is pulling the finger out, just as slowly. He can feel every millimeter of Derek's finger shifting inside of him.

He needs a distraction. His hands latch onto Derek's sides, slide around to map out the muscles of Derek's back.

"Why?"

Derek hums a question from where he's kissing the bare flesh of Stiles's shoulder.

"Why did you agree to go on a date with me?"

Derek huffs a laugh against Stiles's skin. His teeth scratch against Stiles's collarbone, making him shiver. "I think that's obvious."

"It's not."

Derek pulls back. The finger inside of him stills and Stiles whines. He was starting to get used to it moving inside of him and having it stay still inside of him feels weird.

"Because I like you," Derek says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Because you like me. Because you saved my life and held me up for three hours in a pool and out of everyone in this cursed town, you're the only one who's been consistently on my side."

"You're forgetting the part where I thought you were the Alpha that bit Scott and advocated killing you. I got you arrested."

Derek huffs and rolls his eyes. "After that." Derek leans down and presses his forehead against Stiles's. "You asked and I couldn't think of any reason to say no and a million reasons to say yes."

Stiles opens his mouth to respond and then Derek crooks his finger, dragging it down Stiles's insides until it hits something and Stiles bites his lip to keep from screaming. Fuck, that feels good. Then the finger pulls all the way out and Stiles blinks, about to protest when he feels a second finger pressing in alongside the first. It's an even bigger intrusion and Stiles knows they're just getting started but it feels like too much. He whimpers and hides his head against Derek's shoulder.

"Tell me about lacrosse," Derek says. "What position do you play?"

Stiles gasps as the two fingers slide inside of him. He can't... He has no idea why Derek's asking about lacrosse all of a sudden, but he goes with it. "I don't. You know that."

"You played in the championship."

Oh, God, those fingers. He wants to writhe away from them but that won't help. He wants this. He wants Derek. It's just... He just has to get through this and then it'll be good. It'll be so good.

"That was..." He gasps as Derek's fingers spread inside of him, pushing against his insides. Making room. "Ah." He trembles, licks his lips. "That was a fluke. There was no one else. I don't usually play. Second string."

Derek presses a kiss against Stiles's throat. They're so close, practically wrapped up in each other. The fingers withdraw and then there's a third one joining and Stiles can't think, can't do anything but focus on how incredibly full he feels and the movement of Derek's fingers inside of him.

"How about school, then?" Derek says, like it's nothing, like he makes small talk in the middle of sex all the time, like he isn't currently blowing apart Stiles's whole mind and remaking it into something new. "How are your grades?"

Stiles keens. It's a desperate sound, but he feels desperate. He wants Derek. He wants everything and right now he's just feeling so much. It's like his nerves are on fire and Derek wants him to make words? Words in some logical order? He tries and his voice comes out breathless. "I'm second only to Lydia Martin."

Derek drags his fingers against Stile's insides again, right over that spot that makes Stiles want to howl. Derek rubs at it, pressing against the spot again and again, and then moving on. Stiles's cock twitches, like it's almost ready to get back into the game. He whines again. He should feel embarrassed about the desperate sounds he's making but there's not much room left for embarrassment here. Derek's seen him at his worst, seen him naked and bare before him, and he still wants Stiles.

"You like that?" Derek's fingers move back to press in a circle over that spot. Stiles sees stars. He's pretty sure he's making noises—embarrassing noises—but he doesn't care because it feels so, so good. This, my friends, is the prostate, he thinks, remembering his research on male anatomy.

He's so distracted by what Derek's fingers are doing to him that he barely notices when a fourth finger pushes into him. It's a brief burn, a stretch, and then it's just one more thing moving inside of him, triggering his prostate.

He whines when Derek's fingers pull out, earning him a gorgeous smile and a chuckle. Stiles wants to spend all day staring at Derek like this. Instead, Derek is leaning back and running a hand over his cock, making it shine slick with lube. Stiles is so ready. He wants Derek inside of him. He needs it.

Derek lifts Stiles by the back of his knees and shuffles forward on the covers, coming closer. Stiles can't tear his eyes away from Derek's cock, not until it disappears between his legs and then he feels it, a blunt pressure against his entrance. It feels massive. Then it's pushing in and it feels even bigger.

Stiles shouts. It hurts. Not as much as the first finger but it feels too big, like it'll never fit all the way inside of him. Derek's hands tighten on Stiles's knees, keeping Stiles from squirming away. Derek doesn't stop until he's buried all the way inside of Stiles, his hips pressing flush against Stiles's ass.

"Condom?" Stiles asks, a bit too late to matter.

"Werewolves can't carry diseases."

"Okay." In the back of his head, he can hear his dad lecturing him on safe sex but he pushes that thought far, far away. No thoughts about his dad during sex.

Then Derek moves and all semblance of thought leaves Stiles. He's reduced to a quivering, gasping mess—first from pain and then from pleasure. Derek moves so slow. He's gentle, rocking his hips like a glacier, like a tide pushing and pulling, pressing into Stiles deeper and deeper until it's all Stiles can focus on.

It hurts until it doesn't and then it feels so, so good. He moans and writhes back against the pillows. This. This is what he'd been waiting for, this glorious feeling of Derek moving inside of him. He needs more of it. He needs more of everything. Each smooth forward thrust wrings out another moan, but it's not enough.

Stiles whines and paws at Derek. His blunt nails scratch down Derek's back while his legs wrap around Derek's hips, trying to encourage him to go faster. "Derek."

"You want something?" Stiles can practically feel Derek's grin against his skin.

"I need..."

Derek kisses just below Stiles's ear. "Tell me."

"More," Stiles whines. "I need..." He pushes his hips up to meet Derek's thrust. "Please."

"Okay. It's okay. I've got you."

Derek pulls back. His eyes are intense. It feels like they're spearing straight through Stiles, staring down into the core of him. Derek shifts, readjusting his stance on the bed and then his hands grip Stiles by the hips.

A wicked grin spreads across Derek's face. "Are you ready?"

God, he is so ready. "Please."

Stiles is rocked by the force of Derek's next thrust. He raises his hands, presses them against the headboard to keep from sliding into it. That only makes things better because then he can push back, just a little, rock into Derek's next thrust and the next one instead of just being pushed forward.

He moans. It feels so good. Derek's watching him, his eyes bleeding red as he moves faster and faster, pushing harder into Stiles, seeing just how much Stiles's body can take.

Stiles loves it. He can feel Derek shoving inside of him and it's a welcome intrusion. He can feel Derek filling him, sliding slick and wet into his body and forcing Stiles's body to make room for him, to accept him, to let Derek into the deepest parts of Stiles. He wants to stay like this forever, to feel Derek's thick weight inside of him, to feel the slight press of claws against his skin while Derek watches over him, but like all good things, it comes to an end.

Stiles's second release hits him unexpectedly, washing over him like a tidal wave and leaving him twitching and gasping beneath Derek. Derek seems to take that as a sign to work harder, to pound in faster, over and over, until he's coming too, seed spilling out of him and into Stiles.

Derek made him come. He made Derek come. It's like a power too immense to be quantified in words and it leaves Stiles dizzy.

They're both a sticky mess when they come down enough to think. Stiles's legs ache, but in a good way. Derek lowers Stiles's legs to the bed and pulls out with a muffled groan.

"Washcloth?"

"Bathroom." Stiles points to the locked door and the hall beyond.

Derek leaves and comes back with a wet washcloth. He wipes Stiles down first, then himself, then tosses the washcloth on top of Stiles's dirty clothes hamper. Derek starts to pull on his clothes. "I should go. Before your dad gets back."

"Yeah." It pains Stiles to say it. He wants Derek to stay, but he doesn't want his father to catch him with a twenty-something ex-fugitive in his bedroom that probably now reeks of sex.

Derek leans down and kisses Stiles on the forehead. His palm spreads warmth across Stiles's hip. "Text me."

"I will." Because there's no way Stiles won't now that he has Derek's permission, now that he knows Derek likes him.

Derek does an awkward wave and then jumps out the window. Stiles watches him go and thinks he might be in love.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some het stuff in here. You've been warned, just in case you need that warning.

School on Monday is awkward. It feels like an entire month has passed instead of just a weekend. Stiles is no longer a loser virgin. Loser, maybe. Virgin, definitely not. He still feels a little sore, but it's the right kind of sore, reminding him exactly what he'd done and who he'd done it with.

Erica and Boyd crowd him in the hall on his way in. "Good job, Batman," Erica says and kisses him on the cheek.

A deep blush covers Stiles's face, but they're already walking away. He doesn't need to ask what they're referring to.

"You okay?" Scott asks as Stiles gets to his locker.

"Yeah, fine." He still hasn't told Scott what happened, though Scott had filled him in on the whole kanima, Jackson, Lydia thing. Stiles should be upset that Lydia essentially declared her undying love for Jackson, but he can't really bring himself to care. He's probably about one more date – or fuck – away from drawing hearts around Derek's name on the cover of his notebooks.

A flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye draws Stiles's attention and he swears he sees Matt Daehler in the crowd for a moment.

He shakes his head. Matt is dead. He can't cause any more havoc.

Stiles grabs his books and shuts his locker just as the first bell rings for class. As he walks down the hall, he gets the strange feeling that he's being watched.

* * *

Erica takes the seat to Stiles's left at lunch, earning raised eyebrows from the rest of their normal lunch table – Lydia, Jackson, Danny, Scott, and Allison – as Boyd and Isaac follow.

"What gives?" Jackson asks, first to break the awkward silence.

Erica shrugs and steals the apple off Stiles's tray despite the fact that she has a nearly identical looking apple right in front of her. "Came to say hello."

"Since when are we on friendly terms?"

"Jackson!" Lydia smacks him on the arm.

Erica grins and points to Stiles. "Since him."

Stiles turns beet red, earning him confused looks from everyone but Lydia, who just smirks.

"Stiles?" Scott looks like a confused puppy.

"I saved them from Gerard," Stiles says, which isn't technically a lie. Erica's lips quirk but Boyd and Isaac don't give any indication that what Stiles says is anything other than what Erica is referring to. Since he slept with Derek, is what Erica means, bridging the gap between their two pseudo packs. "Besides," he pushes on, "I don't think you have the right to talk, Jackson."

Jackson has the good grace to look sheepish at that – or at least mollified – and turn back to his lunch.

"So we're just one big happy family now," Lydia says.

Scott frowns. "I'm not accepting Derek as my Alpha."

"No one's asking you to, McCall," Erica shoots from around Stiles.

Scott opens his mouth to say something back but Stiles puts his hand over it before he can start a row with Stiles – literally – in the middle.

"How about we just concentrate on lunch?" Stiles says.

Erica smirks and bumps him with her shoulder. "Derek said you should come over after school. He'll text you the address."

"I know where the train depot is."

Isaac shakes his head. "We moved."

Stiles's eyes widen. "Already? It's been, like, three days."

Isaac just shrugs.

"You should come." Erica bites into the apple as she says it, making the action look somehow obscene.

"I'm sure he will," Isaac says.

Erica laughs and Stiles fights a blush.

"Since when are you hanging out with Derek?" Scott asks, sounding hurt.

"Since always. Shut up." Stiles cannot deal with the questions today. Scott looks hurt and Stiles relents. "Since you and Allison started hanging out so much." It's not quite a lie, but it works for Scott, who nods as if that's a good enough reason.

"So you'll be over?" Erica persists.

"Yeah."

Erica grins in a way that makes Stiles question all of his life choices.

* * *

Derek texts him the address after school. Stiles drops his things off at home, changes into something a little nicer than what he was wearing to school, and then drives by. It's an old building in the warehouse district, not far from where Derek had been staying. There's an old furniture store on the bottom floor, but Derek's directions lead him upstairs to the loft. 

Stiles knocks before attempting to open the door. It's big and heavy, but it slides with minimal effort, something his still-bruised ribs are quite grateful for.

The room inside is huge. There's a kitchen to the right, stairs to the left, and a big California King sized bed directly opposite him. A flat screen TV is set up in front of a comfy-looking – new – couch, though the TV is off and Isaac is on the couch doing his Chemistry homework.

"What'd you get for number nine?" Isaac asks without looking up.

"Seventeen."

"Thanks." It still surprises him that he can be friends with someone who tried to kill him less than a few weeks ago. His life is weird like that.

Derek wanders down from upstairs. He's not wearing a shirt and Stiles can't decide between drooling and asking if he can lick Derek's abs. "Did you find the place alright?"

"Yeah." He tucks his hands in his pockets and stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. "Nice place."

"Thanks," Isaac says from the couch.

Derek grins – and that's such a strange but wonderful look on his face – and walks right up to Stiles before wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him in tight for a deep kiss. Stiles's face burns – he's not used to kissing in front of other people, even if that other person isn't even looking – but he doesn't pull away.

The kiss goes on longer than Stiles expects. He'd thought Derek had invited him over for some reason but apparently that reason was making out. Stiles is not going to complain, not when Isaac seems perfectly fine with it.

Then Derek slides a knee between Stiles's legs and puts his hand down the back of Stiles's pants, fingers pressing far too close for comfort to Stiles's entrance, and he's disentangling himself with a flailing of limbs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Derek looks amused. "We can't... not when Isaac..." Stiles gestures meaningfully towards Isaac.

Derek turns towards the couch. "Isaac, do you mind if we have sex?"

Isaac doesn't even look up from his homework. "No, go ahead."

Derek makes a 'well, then' gesture.

"But...."

"Does it bother you?" Derek asks.

Stiles shifts on his feet and hunches in slightly. "A little."

"Enough to stop?"

"No." Because while Stiles may be inexperienced, he's not an idiot.

Derek holds out his hand. Stiles slowly reaches up and takes it. Derek leads Stiles over toward the bed where he stops and slips his hands under Stiles's hoodie and shirt. "Let's get these off."

He blushes as Derek strips him of his clothes and then follows, shucking off his jeans and underwear and pushing Stiles down on the bed. It's really weird being naked under a dude while another dude is less than then yards away doing Chemistry homework, of all things, but once Derek starts kissing him Stiles doesn't mind. He minds even less when Derek's knee presses between Stiles's legs, rubbing against his balls and the base of his cock.

Derek leans up and grabs a bottle of lube from under one of the pillows – multiple pillows, he now notices, meant for more than one. Slick fingers press into him, two at once, and Stiles turns red at the cry that escapes him.

"I'm trying to study here," Isaac says, though there's no heat in the words.

"Sorry," Derek say, like it's his fault. There's a wicked grin on his face as he leans down, covering Stiles's mouth with his own. His fingers twist inside of Stiles, but the sound Stiles makes is swallowed up by Derek's lips.

The fingers are quickly replaced by Derek's hard cock, shoving inside of him in one sharp thrust. Derek has to press a hand over Stiles's mouth to keep his shout muffled. That doesn't seem to be working so Derek flips Stiles, pressing his head down into a pillow. "Bite."

Stiles does as he's told and then Derek is sliding back into his ass. Stiles moans into the pillow, obscenely aware of how it must sound to Isaac. He can't even try to keep the sounds in. It feels too good. Derek is... Derek is amazing and wonderful and he feels so, so good inside of Stiles. Derek's hips roll and Stiles has to bury his face in the pillow to muffle a scream.

The metal door slides open with a loud creak. Derek doesn't even slow down. Two voices come to him as the door slides shut – Erica and Boyd.

"Oooh, I want in!" Erica says.

"I'm putting on the TV," is Isaac's only answer as Derek rolls to the side exposing Stiles to the open air for all to see.

Stiles flushes deep red as Erica rushes over, her heels clack-clacking on the floor. The TV turns on, filling the room with white noise. Erica kicks her shoes off at the foot of the bed and reaches under her skirt to pull her panties down past her ankles. Stiles's eyes widen as she crawls into bed with them. His eyes flick to Boyd, but Boyd's settling on the couch with Isaac, paying no attention to them.

Derek's knee slides between Stiles's legs, holding him open so Derek can start up a slower rhythm rolling into him.

Erica leans down and kisses Stiles on the mouth. Her lipstick tastes like cherries. "Hi, handsome."

Stiles just squeaks in response.

She lays down in front of him and scoots forward. Stiles nearly jumps out of his skin as Erica grabs him by the cock.

"Derek?"

"It'll be good," Derek says, his voice low right next to Stiles's ear.

Erica throws a leg over both of them and guides Stiles into her. He chokes a little on his tongue as the heat envelops him.

"You feel just like that," Derek whispers in his ear. "But tighter. So tight around me. Your little virgin hole."

Stiles whimpers. They take no pity on him. He's caught between Erica and Derek, his body controlled by the roll of their hips. Derek thrusts into him, shoving him forward into Erica who surges up to meet him. Then Derek pulls out and Stiles's body follows, seeking that delicious feeling and pulling out of Erica.

He can't last like this.

He doesn't.

He's coming, loud cries swallowed by Erica's cherry red lips. She pulls away, letting him slip wetly out of her and then sliding up. She unbuttons her shirt and pushes up her bra so that her breasts are exposed in his face.

"Light biting. Don't press in. Sucking is great." With those instructions, she guides his face to her right breast.

Sucking he can do. His little moans and whimpers as Derek thrusts into him are muffled against her skin. Her fingers comb through his hair, nails dragging on his scalp, and then holding, keeping his head in place as he mouths at her breast.

Derek moves, his hand coming off of Stiles's hip and over Stiles. He can't quite see where the hand goes, but judging by the sudden gasp Erica makes, he's guessing into her. Erica presses his face tight to her boob and he does his best to suck and nibble at the flesh there. She comes with a cry to rival Stiles's own.

Once she's sated, Erica rolls away, lying on her back next to them, clothes and hair disheveled. She watches Stiles with a smile and half-lidded eyes.

Derek rolls them again, pushing Stiles back up onto his knees. He sets a brutal, pounding pace. Erica cards her fingers through Stiles's hair, holding his gaze as Derek fucks into him.

It doesn't last long. Derek comes with a roar. Claws prick Stiles's skin and his cock twitches at that, almost but not quite up for another round.

Stiles pants into the sheets, breath gone. His nerves feel frayed raw.

A shadow looms over them and Boyd stands there, holding out a wet washcloth. Derek accepts it and slowly pulls out, making Stiles hiss in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He wipes off Stiles first, then Erica, then himself, before handing the cloth back to Boyd.

Erica smacks Stiles on the ass. "Better put that down or one of the boys is going to take that as an invitation."

Stiles rolls onto his side. He's not quite sure how he'd feel about being fucked by Boyd or Isaac. It doesn't seem as weird of an idea as it should be.

Erica tugs her clothes back to rights while Derek pulls a blanket over them. Derek makes no move to get up, so Stiles doesn't either. Erica keeps rubbing at his scalp while Derek presses tight against his back.

Stiles falls asleep to the TV, feeling warm and safer than he's ever felt before.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles wakes up hungry. Erica has abandoned the bed to sit on Boyd's lap. Derek is still behind him but he makes no protest as Stiles slips out of bed and shyly starts gathering his clothing. While he dresses, Derek stretches and emerges from the covers. Stiles can't help but stare at how good Derek looks while naked, so much better than Stiles's scrawny ass.

"Can I...." He gestures toward the kitchen.

"Help yourself," Derek says as he pulls on his jeans.

The kitchen is surprisingly well stocked. He thinks Isaac probably has something to do with that. He finds red meat in the fridge and some peppers and onion. The steak gets cut up into strips and fried next to the peppers and onion – not long because he knows his crowd and their preference for rare meat.

By the time he's done, there's a small audience gathered around the kitchen island. He's glad Derek has a big skillet. He portions out five plates, finds forks with Isaac's direction, and then throws more steak on to cook. Erica grabs one of the plates, a fork, and is gone right away. Stiles watches her go and can't help but marvel that he had sex with her. It seems unreal.

"Thank you," Boyd and Isaac say as they take their plates.

Derek crowds up close behind him as he's browning the last of the steak and kisses Stiles's neck. "I should have offered you the bite," Derek says, his lips moving against Stiles's neck. "You're proving to be the perfect addition to my pack."

A small thrill goes through him at being referred to as pack. "Peter offered it before. I turned it down." He can feel the sudden spike in interest from the rest of the pack as their attention turns away from the TV and towards Stiles.

"Why?"

Stiles shrugged. "I saw what it did to Scott. I wasn't ready for that."

"And now?"

Stiles leans back into Derek's hold. "Now I know there are things only a human can do. I'd like to learn more about being a spark and what that means for me."

"What it means for the pack," Derek corrects, "is that we have a human capable of doing magic. With training, you could be pretty powerful."

Stiles snorts and turns off the burner. "Me? Powerful?"

Derek tilts Stiles's chin up so that their eyes meet. "You. Powerful."

Stiles looks away first. "Well, then." He turns to grab his own plate.

"Thank you for cooking." Derek kisses Stiles on the forehead, making Stiles blush. He's not used to being thanked for doing something as basic as cooking.

"Any time."

"I may hold you to that."

"I'm sure you can hold a lot of things to Stiles," Erica shouts from the couch.

Stiles shakes his head. "Seconds are ready." Erica is up in a flash.

Derek and Stiles take their plates over to the bed and eat sitting on the edge, half watching TV. The betas are watching some sitcom Stiles has never seen. It's somewhat interesting. He'll have to find out the name and see if it's on Hulu.

He stands and takes his plate to the kitchen. He turns on the water to start on dishes but then Isaac is there, nudging Stiles away. "Let me."

"Okay." Stiles is never one to turn down free labor. He looks around the kitchen but there's nothing really to put away or clean that Isaac isn't already taking care of. He stands there awkwardly for a moment before looking at Derek. "I should go home and finish my homework."

"Alright." Derek stands and walks over. He sets his dirty plate next to Isaac before crowding close to Stiles and pulling him into a lingering kiss. "Next time, bring your stuff with you. You're always welcome here."

Stiles blushes. It's been a long time since someone's said that to him. The only other place he's always welcome is Scott's – and technically Jungle, but he's not sure if invitations from drag queens count.

"Then you can help me with English," Erica says with a grin. "And Isaac with Chemistry. It'll be like having a live-in tutor who we occasionally fuck."

Stiles turns beet red at that comment. "Yeah." He has no idea what else to say.

"Drive safe," Derek says with another kiss, and how is this his life now that Derek Hale wishes him well and kisses him. He really needs to stand up to old man bullies more often if this is what it gets him.

He slips out before he can say anything sappy and stupid.

* * *

"You smell like Derek," Scott says on Tuesday morning. His eyes narrow as he takes a longer sniff. "Really strongly of Derek."

He knew he should have done more than a quick shower but he was in a rush this morning and he didn't have that much time.

Stiles blushes and closes his locker a little too hard. "We should talk. About that. Later. Not here."

Scott narrows his eyes. "Is something going on between you two?"

"Jesus, not here. I'll tell you after school, okay?"

"Okay. After school then."

* * *

Stiles swears he's going crazy. He keeps seeing things out of the corner of his eye, things that aren't there when he turns. Now he knows how Lydia must have felt the last few weeks. He doesn't say anything about it. He thinks it's probably just residual trauma from the beating he took. It'll go away.

He drives Scott home with him, waiting until they're safe in Stiles's room before he blurts out "I'm sleeping with Derek."

"What?" Scott looks incredulous. "Really?"

Stiles nods too fast. "Yeah. And Erica. And I think maybe eventually Boyd and Isaac. Erica keeps making jokes, but I'm not sure how much is really joke and how much is her being serious. That woman is dirty and dangerous."

Scott's eyes are wide as saucers. "You're kidding, right?"

Stiles shakes his head.

"All of them?"

He nods.

"At the same time?"

"So far, no. Just Derek and Erica."

"That sounds... hot. I can't decide if I want the details or not."

Stiles shrugs. It's not like Scott hadn't shared way too much about his relationship with Allison. Stiles knows far more than he should about that woman's anatomy.

Stiles sits down on his bed. "It's... good. Really good. I mean, the whole pack thing. It works for me."

Scott frowns. "I'm not-"

"I know," Stiles cuts him off. "I'm not asking you to. Just to accept that I am, and maybe agree that we can all work together when we need to."

Scott nods slowly. "I can agree to that."

"Good. That's all I'm asking." Scott and Stiles stare at each other for a moment. It's not really awkward, because things between the two of them could never be truly awkward, but it feels a little bit. Stiles needs to change the mood. "Halo?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

He follows Scott into work on Thursday. Deaton glances at him as they walk in together. "Mister Stilinski. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I wanted to talk... about sparks. And other stuff."

"Step into my office." Stiles follows Deaton. There's a flash of something as the door closes and Stiles has a feeling Scott won't be able to hear them. "What's been troubling you?"

He hesitates. "I've been... seeing things. Things that aren't there. Like Matt, the guy who was controlling the kanima. The dead guy controlling the kanima."

"Did anything happen to you recently? Bites, unusual episodes or feelings, traumatic injury, death..." Deaton pauses on the last word. "You died?"

"Erica says I did but," Stiles spreads his arms. "Here I am, hearty and whole."

Deaton reaches across the desk to take Stiles's hand, turn it over, and check for a pulse. "How odd. And Erica was sure that was what happened?"

Stiles nods. "Boyd too."

"You don't seem to be any worse for the wear."

"That's why I don't believe them. I just got knocked out for a bit, saw some white lights, heard voices. Nothing uncommon with head injuries."

Deaton's eyebrow raises. "You saw a white light?"

"Lots of it."

"And what did the voices say?"

"I heard my mother say my name. Then I woke up."

Deaton sits back in his chair. "It's not unusual for sparks to have unique experiences when close to death. I think you should come back and see me again, after hours. It's probably time you received some training in what it means to be a spark."

"I'd like that."

Deaton smiles. "Stop by Sunday at noon. We'll start then."

Stiles nods. "Thank you." He stands. "I'll see you on Sunday then."

* * *

"Tell your dad you're going to be spending the weekend with friends," Erica says Friday morning.

Stiles looks at her suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because," she grins, wide and toothy, "you're spending the weekend with friends."

"Oh."

"Don't bother packing much in the way of clothes. You won't be needing them."

Stiles turns red, opens his mouth to respond, but she's already sauntered off.

Well, look like he's got an eventful weekend planned.

* * *

Erica, Isaac, and Boyd coopt his Jeep for a ride to Derek's after school. They stop by each of their respective houses – Boyd's, Erica's, his own. He waits in the Jeep while Erica and Boyd grab bags, but they all follow him inside when he pulls up to his own house. His dad is home and John Stilinski looks up in surprise as a hoard of teenagers come tromping into the house.

"Hello," John says, looking a little confused.

"Dad, you know Isaac, Erica, and Boyd."

"The friends you said you're spending the weekend with?" John only gives the betas the most cursory of cop stares.

"Yep." He herds the betas upstairs. "I'm just going to-" He waves towards his room. "And then we're going to-" He waves towards his Jeep.

"No drinking. No smoking. No drugs. Make sure your homework is done and be back for dinner Sunday."

Stiles salutes. "Yes, sir."

"What about Scott?"

Stiles shakes his head. "Back on with Allison. He's got plans."

"Ah. Well, you kids have fun."

Erica, Isaac, and Boyd are already in his room by the time he gets there. Erica is going through his closet, tossing clothes onto the bed next to where Boyd is calmly sitting. Isaac is going through Stiles's computer.

"Do I want to know?" He asks Erica.

She gives him an obvious once over. "Someone's got to dress you. You obviously don't have the skills."

"Hey!"

"Just let her," Isaac says. "It's easier that way."

Stiles rolls his eyes and reaches past Isaac to grab the mouse and shut his laptop off. It goes in a bag along with his chargers, some clothes, and a handful of movies that Erica insists on grabbing.

He gets strangely nervous as he drives to Derek's loft. It's not like he hasn't spent time there before, but only once before, and it hadn't been that long of a time. He parks and they all grab their bags and head up.

There's more furniture this time. A bookshelf has been added with a scattering of movies, and a small loveseat and armchair. It makes the place feel a little more cramped but Stiles kind of likes it. Derek is reading on the couch when they come in. He smiles at Stiles, and it does devastating things to Stiles's insides.

"Okay," Erica says. "Hale Pack bonding weekend officially begins. First up, we teach Stiles how to give a blowjob."

"What?" Stiles flushes deep red. Derek fumbles and drops his book.

"You heard me. Come on." She grabs Boyd and Stiles by the hands and drags them over to the couch. She pushes Body down next to Derek and then makes Stiles kneel in front of Derek. "Okay, boys. Cocks out." Isaac chuckles and takes a seat in the armchair.

Boyd and Derek reach for their pants without hesitation. Stiles wants to look away, but he can't, mesmerized. Boyd is thicker than Derek, but Derek is longer. They both shift their pants low on their hips, making their pants slack around the fly.

"First step, stroking. Always use a firm hand. A little slick is always good." With that, Erica licks her palm and wraps her hand around Boyd's cock. Boyd grunts and shifts his legs wider, giving her better access. She looks pointedly at Stiles. "Now you try."

Derek's eyes are hot on his as Stiles licks his palm. His hand shakes a little as he reaches forward. It feels weird touching another man's cock, but it also feels really good. He wraps his hand around it like Erica showed him and pumps once experimentally. Derek hisses in pleasure and jerks his hips up into Stiles's palm. It makes Stiles feel insanely powerful, knowing he can make Derek feel good with just a touch.

"Step two, bring your mouth down over the tip. Avoid letting your teeth touch the skin. You can cover them with your lips if you need to. Suck up and down. Don't try to take too much at first. Concentrate on the tip. Use of tongue is encouraged."

She then demonstrates, wrapping her lips around Boyd's cock and sucking up and down. It looks easy enough, but Stiles knows he's going to fuck it up.

"Go on," Derek urges, his voice soft.

Stiles slowly lowers his mouth and closes it around the head of Derek's cock. It tastes a little bitter, but kind of good as he lowers his mouth, just a little, and sucks experimentally. Derek groans and the sound goes right through Stiles. Derek's hand lands on the back of Stiles's head, encouraging him to go down, just a little, and then pulling him back up.

"You've got it," Erica encourages. "Use your hand on the parts your mouth can't reach."

He moves his hand in time with his mouth, up as he pulls off and then down as he sinks over Derek's cock. His knees hurt, but he ignores it in favor of the heavy weight of Derek's cock in his mouth. It makes Stiles feel full in a way he entirely enjoys. He sucks, gets his tongue involved, lapping at the skin in his mouth.

"I told you he'd be good at it," Erica says. "Look at him. So greedy for it. He's a natural."

Derek just groans. His fingers tighten on Stiles's skull, encouraging Stiles to go deeper every time. Stiles mouth starts to ache, his lips sore but he doesn't stop bobbing, not until he tastes salt on his tongue and Derek says "Close your eyes." He does, just in time for Derek to pull him off and come all over Stiles's face. It's hotter than it should be, wearing Derek's come.

Strong hands – multiple pairs – pull him up onto Derek's lap. Erica crawls on top of them and starts licking at the come on Stiles's face while her hands reach for the fly of Stiles's jeans. She pulls Stiles out and strokes him to hardness before going down on him, swallowing him all the way in a move so smooth that Stiles decides he really needs to learn that from her.

He has a moment to glance at Isaac, stroking himself while watching the four of them, and Boyd, up on his knees positioning himself behind Erica, before Derek pulls him into a brutal kiss. Little moans and whimpers still escape him between kisses. He's not quiet during sex, he's realized. Not quiet ever, but Derek doesn't seem to mind. He eats up every sound until Stiles is moaning into his mouth, so close to coming it hurts. Each of Boyd's thrusts sends Erica deeper onto Stiles's cock and it feels so good.

"I'm.... I'm going..."

"Shh," Derek whispers against Stiles's neck. Then he's biting down with blunt teeth, leaving a mark on Stiles's shoulder and making Stiles come so hard he sees starts. Erica swallows it down, swallows him down, and milks him through release with a steady single-mindedness that makes Stiles shiver.

When Erica pulls back, her hair is disheveled and lipstick askew, but she looks pleased as the cat that got the canary.

"This is what you had planned for the weekend?" Stiles gasps.

"We're just getting started," Erica says with a grin.

Stiles whimpers. He may not survive.


	5. Chapter 5

After they clean up and tuck themselves away, they end up sprawled across the couches watching one of the movies Erica picked out. Isaac's by himself still, while Boyd, Erica, Stiles, and Derek are tangled up on the couch. Stiles is in Derek's lap – possibly his new favorite place to be – and Erica is on Boyd's, their legs meeting in the middle of the couch.

"You're going to need a bigger place," Stiles says idly. He's only half watching the movie. Erica's playing footsie with him and Derek's petting his back. He's seen it before anyways.

"Oh?" Derek asks. He also doesn't seem to be that enthralled with the movie.

"I was just thinking... for weekends the loft is fine, but if you wanted something more long term, something with all of us together, then you'll need a bigger place." He pauses. "Or at least a second bathroom."

Derek nods. He rubs his chin on Stiles's shoulder. "I was thinking of rebuilding the house."

"I thought you were worried about them trying to burn it down again."

Derek shrugs. "We can't live in fear all the time."

Stiles kisses him, because it seems like the right thing to do. They keep kissing, no heat to it, just kisses, until the movie ends and Erica yawns and drags them all off the couch for bed. Stiles and Derek end up in the center of the big bed, with Isaac behind Derek, and Erica and Boyd snuggled up to Stiles. It's more people than Stiles has ever been in bed with at once, but it's warm and it's comfortable. He sinks into sleep in an instant.

* * *

"You need to watch out for him," a beautiful woman with brown hair says.

Stiles blinks. He's not sure where he is or who she is. "Watch out for who?"

"My brother, Derek."

Stiles frowns. "Laura?"

She nods. "Got it in one."

He's never seen a picture of Laura besides her autopsy photos but he knows this is her, this is what she'd look like if she were still alive. She's beautiful in the same way Derek is handsome.

"There's not much I can do," he says. "I'm just a human."

"You're more than you think and stronger than you know."

Stiles snorts. "I think you have me confused with someone else."

She shakes her head. "No, Stanislaw Stilinski, you're the one to save the pack. You've already tied them together stronger than they were before."

"What should I do, then?"

"Make a truce with the Argents. There's too much bad blood between us for Derek or Chris to consider it. Work with Allison. Make it happen. You're stronger together than you are apart. You need to be strong for what's coming."

"What's coming?"

He never gets the answer to his question. The smell of food and a full bladder wake him. His face is mushed against Erica's breasts. She murmurs something and tries to grab at him when he rolls away. Everyone else is up. Isaac's in the kitchen and Derek's in the second bedroom upstairs exercising. Boyd's reading on the couch. Erica starts to get up by the time Stiles makes it to the bathroom.

Breakfast is bacon and eggs and Stiles thinks he might keep Isaac forever to make him breakfast. Morning is Stiles's worst time of the day. There's something nice about waking up and having food already ready for him. Derek and Erica both kiss him good morning as they get up and head towards the island to collect their plates. Erica looks beautiful even with bedhead and the crease of a pillow still on her forehead.

It makes him think of the weird dream he had, of Laura and the truce with the Argents. It would be nice not to have to worry about the people he's starting to care for a great deal. The Argents are a threat as long as they continue the feud and it needs to end if there's any chance of rebuilding the house like Derek wants.

He pulls out his phone and shoots off a quick text to Allison. _Can we talk? After school Monday._

He gets back an affirmative response in seconds.

"Can I fuck you?" Isaac asks out of the blue. At first Stiles isn't sure who he's talking to and then he realize Isaac is staring at him.

Stiles flushes. "Now?"

Isaac shakes his head. "When you're done eating."

He looks to Derek, but Derek gives him no indication what to say. "Yeah." He feels strangely calm as he finishes his breakfast and stands. He's still in his pajamas and he probably has morning breath, but Isaac is all up in his face as soon as Stiles is up. He kisses Stiles with hot lips and eager tongue, guides Stiles over to the bed they'd just exited and pushes him face down.

His pajama pants are pulled down and then there are slick fingers inside of him, startling a cry out of him. Isaac works him open with two fingers, then three, twisting and sliding them inside of him. His stomach is full, leaving him feeling pleasantly sated as Isaac slips inside of him with a groan.

Stiles feels lazy. He's still not fully awake. He relaxes against the pillows, his face mushed against where Derek was sleeping. Isaac takes his time, fucking Stiles slowly. There's no hurry this morning. They've got all day and Isaac seems content to take it. He rolls his hips, slow and steady. Pleasure washes over Stiles like waves on the ocean. He makes little noises, not his usual sounds but something softer, more intimate. Isaac takes him apart from the inside and it's all Stiles can do to grip the sheets and hold on.

He's not sure how long it takes before Isaac comes, but he thinks it's a testament to his stamina that he manages to last just as long. Isaac's breath goes rough. He slams forward hard and tightens his grip on Stiles's hips before coming inside of him. Stiles comes seconds later, gasping into the sheets and shaking so hard he thinks the bed vibrates.

It's not the bed vibrating, it's dipping, mattress rolling as a second person joins them on the bed. Isaac pulls out and someone else pushes in, hard and thick and just right in Stiles's aching hole. He turns his head and meets eyes with Derek, who looks flushed and ready as he pounds into Stiles. 

Stiles cries out and muffles the sound against the pillows. His limbs feel like mush. He can barely move, barely hold himself up. His thighs quake with the effort and then Derek's hands are there, steadying Stiles's hips and holding him up, holding him open for Derek to thrust into. Where Isaac was slow, Derek is fast. Where Isaac was soft and gentle, Derek is hard and bruising. Stiles is loud when Derek fucks him and the pillow only muffles so much.

Derek doesn't last long at the pace he set. It's too fast, too brutal, to be sustainable. His hips spike erratic and Stiles knows release is drawing up on Derek. He's done this enough now that he can recognize the signs – the way Derek's grip turns sharp with claws, the way his even pace goes off-kilter, the slight growl in his breath as he fucks hard and fast into Stiles.

It's good. Too good. Stiles feels hyper-sensitized to it.

The bed dips again as Erica climbs on with them. She edges her way across the pillows until she's sitting in front of Stiles with no pants on. "Let's see if you can apply last night's lesson to a female." She grabs his head and pushes him down between her legs.

He's never gone down on a woman before, never even been up and close with lady parts, but he knows from the too-detailed conversations with Scott what to do. Derek finishes and pulls out, giving Stiles a moment of semi-clear-headedness to pull his hands up to touch Erica. He holds her open with one hand and licks, exactly like Scott taught him. He presses two fingers inside of her, making her moan and clutch his head.

The bed dips again and he knows this time it's Boyd pushing inside of him. It's too much, and he whimpers against Erica's skin. She just cackles. "I told you not to bother with clothes."

Stiles feels fucked raw as Boyd moves. He's like a live wire, all sparking nerves and heady emotion. Each thrust, no matter how gentle, goes straight through him, making him ache in such a good way. He's not going to be able to sit down for days, but that's okay because it feels mind-blowingly good.

Each of his moans and cries is swallowed by Erica's skin. He licks the alphabet on her clit, working from A and going towards Z but not quite making it all the way there before Erica's coming with a loud cry and nails practically embedding themselves in Stiles's forehead. Boyd's not far behind, but at least he's gentle as he pulls out, leaving a trail of wet come dribbling down Stiles's thighs.

Stiles collapses on the bed, too fucked-out and tired to move. Erica slides a pillow under his head and Boyd covers him with a sheet. They leave him there to sleep away the afternoon, feeling sated and sore in all the right ways.

* * *

Stiles wakes again in the evening. He hobbles to the bathroom for a shower and then joins Derek on the loveseat, laying with his head on Derek's lap while Derek reads a book – Hemmingway judging from the cover. Boyd's leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed while Erica and Isaac sit on either side of him, playing with their phones.

"I think I've had more sex this week than most people have in an entire month."

"Is that a bad thing?" Derek asks. His fingers card through Stiles's hair absently. He doesn't look away from his book.

"No. No complaints here, though sitting through class Monday is going to suuuuck."

"You suck," Erica says, grinning.

"Thanks to you," he says back, knowing exactly where she was going.

"The weekend's not even over yet," Isaac adds.

Stiles groans and closes his eyes. His dick twitches at the thought. "You break it, you bought it."

Derek looks down at him with interest. "What is the going rate on your ass?"

Stiles blushes. "For you, it's free."

There's a chorus of "aww"s from the couch. Derek smirks.

"I have to go over to Deaton's at noon tomorrow for training."

"He's teaching you magic?"

"I think that's the idea. He wasn't very specific. He seemed to think Erica was right about the whole dying thing." Erica snorts and mutters that of course she was. "He thinks it was the spark that kept me alive."

"I'm glad. It would have been awful to lose you."

"Really?"

Derek just stares down at him. "Yeah, Stiles. In case you hadn't noticed, we are a bit fond of you."

"You had strange ways of showing it, before."

Derek shrugs. "If we hadn't been fond of you, you wouldn't have gotten in our way and escaped without a scratch like you did."

"I'm glad you like me then, if that’s what you consider without a scratch."

"I can give you a few scratches, if you'd prefer." Erica grins and flexes her claws.

"I'll pass." A thought comes to him and he twists his fingers in Derek's shirt. "Why'd you agree to go out with me?"

"Because I like you Stiles. I thought you'd make a good addition to the pack."

He blushes and rolls to face Derek's stomach. "Thank you."

Derek's fingers brush gently over Stiles's head. "You're welcome."


	6. Chapter 6

Monday afternoon finds Stiles and Allison at a small cafe near Beacon Hills High School. Stiles is pleasantly sore from a weekend at the loft. He's got a book of runes from Deaton to study for the next few weeks and a vague plan of action for dealing with his spark.

"So, what's up?" Allison asks as she sits down at their remote table with her chai.

Stiles stirs his coffee with a plastic stick. "I wanted to talk to you about a truce between the Argents and the Hales."

Allison's eyes widen. "So it's true? You're with Derek's pack? What about Scott?"

Stiles frowns. "What about Scott?"

"I thought you were on his side."

Stiles leans forward across the table. "I am. I will always be on Scott's side. He's my bro." There's very little that could ever make him stop being on Scott's side.

"Then what about Derek and his pack?"

Stiles shrugs. As much as he will always be Scott's bro, he's more than a little in love with Derek and his pack. "I'm allowed to be on multiple sides. I like to think I'm on everyone's side."

Allison frowns at him, like what he's said is some kind of betrayal. "They killed my mother."

Stiles's eyes narrow. For all her talk about Scott and being on his side, she's doing a piss-poor job of it herself. "Your mother tried to kill Scott. It was self-defense."

Allison gasps. Her eyes widen and Stiles has a brief moment of regret. It doesn't last long.

"Scott didn't tell you, did he?"

She shakes her head.

"Your mom found out you two were still seeing each other. She would have killed Scott if Derek hadn't intervened. What happened to your mom was an accident. I'm sorry it had to happen that way."

Allison nods. There are unshed tears in her eyes. He can't imagine what she must be feeling, how it must hurt to know your mother tried to kill your boyfriend and died because of it. Stiles is still not clear on why she had to die at all. He thinks it would have been better to live as a werewolf than die a human.

"Will you at least think about it?"

She nods again. "I'll talk to my father, but I don't think he'll be as forgiving as I am."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Or as forgiving as Derek is? Your aunt killed his whole family."

"We're not like she was."

"Then prove it."

She has nothing to say to that.

* * *

It feels strange coming home to his own house. He does and doesn't want to be there. He loves his dad but he misses the pack. Erica and Boyd are at their respective houses too tonight. It's a thing with Derek, that they all spend time with their families when they can.

"How was your day, son?" John Stilinski asks as Stiles walks in the door. He's at the stove, flipping burgers in a frying pan. Hundred-percent organic bison burgers – heart-healthy and delicious. It smells heavenly.

"Good. Grabbed coffee with Allison."

"How's she doing?"

"Alright. Still mourning her mom."

John nods. "Such a tragedy. It'll take her some time, especially so soon after the loss of her aunt."

No one's grieving Kate anymore, but Stiles doesn't say that. The only one who mourned her was Gerard and Gerard's most likely dead in a ditch somewhere.

They eat quietly. Stiles goes over the boring minutia of his day that he knows his dad likes to hear, while his dad gives him vague bits about cases – nothing substantial, no names, but enough to keep Stiles from pestering him about it.

Stiles does his homework in his room and then closes the door. He thinks about going to bed early, but when he lays down all he can think about is Derek. His cock hardens a little and he palms himself through his sweatpants. He wonders what it will be like when Derek has a house. Will he give them all keys so they can come and go as they please? Will he keep the big bed that they all share or break it into separate bedrooms? He knows Isaac has a bed in the loft, but he didn't use it over the weekend. None of them strayed from the big bed.

He slips a hand inside his pants and strokes himself thinking of the past weekend. He remembers the lazy way Isaac fucked him, so slow and almost gentle. He wonders what it would take to make him go wild. He wonders what Isaac would taste like.

Stiles closes his eyes and imagines it. He thinks of Isaac's cock in his mouth, just thick enough to fill him and salty-sweet. Stiles is rapidly developing an appreciation for sucking cock, even though he's only done it once, he can picture himself doing it more. He likes the way it makes him feel full. He groans as he imagines taking Isaac's cock in his mouth while Derek fucks him. He has to squeeze himself to keep from coming on the spot.

He gropes above his head for the lube and pulls his hand away from his cock long enough to slick his fingers. He slides out of his sweatpants and lifts his hips enough that he can get his hand underneath him. It's a bit of an odd angle, but he manages to slide two fingers inside. They don't go deep, his arm isn't long enough, but between that and his other hand closing around his cock it's enough to make him bite his lips to hold back a shout as he comes.

Stiles pants through the aftermath of his release, still stroking himself lazily until the sensation becomes too much. He needs to buy a toy or something, anything to get him through a week without getting fucked. He almost misses the nights when his dad was working overnight, because at least then he could sneak out for a few hours, but he sees his dad far too little as it is.

 _You've ruined me,_ he texts to the pack at large.

 _Yesss!_ is Erica's instant response.

 _How so?_ Derek asks.

_I need someone to fuck me._

Four responses come in within seconds of each other, each a variation on 'I volunteer'.

_My dad's home this week. He'd notice if I came home reeking of sex._

_I'm taking you shopping tomorrow,_ Erica says.

_Oh?_

_We're getting you a toy. Something big and thick for your slutty ass._

Stiles flushes and squirms against the sheets. He's developing a marked fondness for dirty talk, and both Erica and Derek seem to be quite good at it.

 _Ribbed for his pleasure?_ Isaac asks.

 _Send me pics,_ Derek says.

 _Send me pics of you using it. Better yet, Skype us._ He can hear Erica's voice demanding through the text.

Stiles turns bright red at the thought.

Boyd's the first to respond. _I'm free after ten._

 _Works for us,_ Isaac says.

Stiles flushes. _I'll be over here, dying of shame._ He knows he'll go through with it, despite the potential embarrassment. At this point, he'd do pretty much anything they asked of him.

 _You'll live,_ Erica says. _Your cute ass might not._

Stiles thinks that might be true.


	7. Chapter 7

"You're taking me shopping after school," Erica says as she flops down into the chair between Stiles and Boyd, her usual lunch table spot. It's kind of weird how easily Stiles has gotten used to being sandwiched between Erica and Scott at lunch – his best friend on one side, his pack on the other. The table is divided evenly between pack and not, with Stiles in the middle. It's a strange yet accurate portrayal of life.

"Shopping?" Lydia perks up.

Stiles blushes. He knows exactly what Erica wants to go shopping for. "I don't think-" Erica's hand over his mouth cuts him off.

"Check your texts, honey," Erica says with a grin.

Lydia unlocks her phone and grins as she reads whatever text Erica sent.

Stiles's eyes widen. He doesn't want to know when Erica and Lydia exchanged numbers. The thought of those two ever working together terrifies him.

Scott narrows his eyes. "Do I want to know?"

Stiles shakes his head rapidly. Erica's hand is still over his mouth. He's tempted to lick it.

Erica leans past Stiles. Her boob presses against his arm. He's pretty sure that's intentional. "It's a pack thing."

Scott frowns. "You mean a sex thing."

"Pretty much."

"What?" Jackson's head snaps over to them. "Since when is loser Stilinski getting laid?"

Erica looks thoughtful. "Since about-"

It's Stiles's turn to slap a hand over Erica's mouth. She licks it. He licks hers. They both quickly remove their hands and wipe them off.

"Gross," Scott says.

"None of your business," Stiles says, staring pointedly at Erica to keep her from elaborating.

Jackson frowns. "So which of those losers stole your V-card?"

Erica answers before Stiles can stop her. "That was Derek."

Jackson looks even more confused. "Then you and Erica..." He points between the two of them.

"Are also a thing," Erica finishes.

"I thought you were with Boyd," Allison says, sounding just as confused as Jackson.

"She is." Stiles sighs. He was hoping not to get into the pack dynamics at school. Ever, really. It was hard enough explaining it to Scott.

Erica makes a big circle with her hands. "We're all together. The whole pack."

"What? How does that...? I don't even..." Jackson looks so confused.

"Way to go, Stilinski," Danny whistles from the far end of the table.

Stiles blushes.

"Who in their right mind would even want to sleep with Stilinski?" Jackson asks.

Three hands raise to Stiles's left. His face feels like it's on fire. Scott buries his face in his hands and groans while Allison and Lydia chuckle. Danny just looks amused.

"Can we move on from this topic?" Stiles asks.

"Yes." Scott jerks up instantly. "Please."

"So how about that Chemistry class?"

* * *

Stiles turns away from his locker and jumps back. Matt Daehler stands right in front of him. He blinks and Matt is gone.

"Come on, sweet cheeks." Erica swoops in and grabs Stiles by the arm.

Stiles looks around but he can't see Matt anymore.

Erica half-drags him toward the doors. "Lydia's meeting us there."

"Yay."

Erica snorts. "Don't sounds so excited."

"Terrified is more like it."

They walk out of school side-by-side. Erica bumps into him, nearly slamming him into the railing. The rest of the school is pouring out around them. Stiles turns towards his Jeep and freezes. Matt's standing in front of his Jeep.

"Stiles?" Erica looks up at him from the bottom of the stairs.

He looks down at her and then back to the Jeep. Matt is gone. "Did you see..."

"See what?" Erica follows his gaze to the Jeep.

Stiles shakes his head. "Nothing."

Erica frowns and watches him as they walk to the Jeep. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired, I think."

"Did you want to postpone our trip?"

She's giving him an out. He doesn't take it. "No. You wanted to go today."

She snorts and bumps his shoulder. "You know this trip is for you right."

"I wasn't sure if you remembered that part."

Erica directs him to a shop in one of the strip malls near the Jungle. Lydia gets out of her car as soon as they park and follows them into the store. The strip mall is in a somewhat shady looking neighborhood, but the shop they enter is clean and well-lit. The clerk looks up from her magazine, glances at them once, and then turns back to flip the page.

"Let me know if you need help finding anything."

"Vibrators?" Erica asks with a grin.

The clerk points. Erica gleefully drags Stiles over to the selection along the wall. There's a wide variety to choose from. Most are colored some outrageous neon or pastel, usually sparkling like they're made out of some glittery gel. There's silver ones that look like long bullets and fleshy colored ones with fake balls.

"What's that for?" Stiles asks, pointing to one that has a rabbit curving out of the base.

"Clit stimulation," Lydia asks, sounding matter-of-fact like she talks about it all the time.

Stiles quickly pulls his hand away.

"This one." Erica picks up a box that has a green gel vibrator with ridges along the edges of it. "What do you think?" She shows it to Lydia.

Lydia turns the package over and reads from the back. "Ten speeds. Variable vibration. Should do nicely for him."

"I'm right here you know," Stiles grumps.

"Here." Lydia hands him the toy. He fumbles and nearly drops it.

Lydia and Erica walk off while he's reading the back of it. It seems like a decent enough vibrator. He doesn't really have much experience with them, or any experience really, but it seems a little less daunting than some of the thicker or stranger shaped ones on the racks.

"I found something for you." He looks up to Lydia holding a ball gag up for him.

"Hey!"

"We're getting that," Erica says, sneaking up behind him. Something flat and hard hits him on the ass and he jumps with a screech. "And this."

"You break it, you bought it," the clerk says.

"We're buying it," Erica calls back with a wicked grin. She has a few other things in her hands besides the paddle – another dildo, some kind of harness, some leather cuffs. Erica leans close. "I'm going to do wicked things to you."

Stiles gulps. He's not sure if he should be excited, afraid, or both.

They pile the items on the counter with a package of batteries, and then Erica whips out a credit card that has Derek's name on it. She winks at him as the purchases get bagged up. The ball gag comes with them.

He drops Erica off at Derek's and then goes home, sneaking the vibrator into the house in his backpack. He practically runs up to his room to drop off his backpack, shoving the vibrator under the bed to hide it.

Stiles has no idea how he makes it through dinner without blushing like an idiot, or how he manages to concentrate enough to do his homework, but he gets through it. Ten o'clock rolls around and there's a ping on his Skype. He settles on his bed with the laptop up against the headboard before opening the chat, sound piped to him through a set of earbuds. Derek and Isaac are each on their own screens even though it's obvious they're in the same room. He sees Erica and Boyd's bedrooms behind them. Boyd's at a desk whereas Erica's on her bed.

Erica grins at him. "There you are, sweet cheeks. Show the boys what Derek bought you."

Stiles flushes red and digs under the bed for the package. He holds it up and gets an appreciative whistle from Isaac.

"Didn't even take it out of the box yet?" Isaac asks.

Stiles shakes his head. "I was too embarrassed to."

"Well, time's up," Erica says. "Break that baby out so we can see it in action."

He obediently opens the package and pulls out the vibrator. It feels weird in his hands, oddly heavy and thick in a way he hadn't expected. He breaks open the batteries and loads the vibrator up.

"Suck on it," Erica says.

"What?"

"Put it in your mouth."

He hesitantly does, wrapping his lips around the gelled plastic. It tastes like chemicals.

"Look at those lips. You were made to suck cock, baby."

Stiles flushes and pulls it out. He feels weird sucking on a vibrator when he's alone in his room.

"Take your clothes off," Derek orders.

Stiles starts to take the earbuds out, but Derek's voice stops him.

"Make sure we can see."

He's red all the way to his ears, he's sure, but he makes sure they can watch as he climbs off the bed and strips off his clothes. It feels oddly public, having them watching him from their computers while he gets naked. When he puts the earbuds back in, Isaac wolf-whistles at him.

"Now slick it up for us," Erica says.

"Make it nice and wet so it slides right in," Isaac adds. "We know how tight your ass can be."

He's never going to stop blushing. They're going to find him dead in his room from embarrassment. Regardless, he pulls out the lube and makes sure the toy is nice and slick. He gets comments on his hand technique as he goes.

"Now bend over and slide that baby in."

His face ends up right in front of the computer as he bends over. He reaches back and positions the tip of the toy at his entrance. The slick tip is cold against his skin and feels strangely alien.

"Go on," Derek urges. "You know you can take it."

He pushes, just a little, and moans as the tip presses into him. It stretches him, opening him up like one of the boys would when they push into him, but it's his own hand controlling it, pushing the vibrator slowly in until all that's left is the base.

"Yes," Erica purrs. "Just like that. Swallow it up for us. Good boy."

He whimpers. He likes it when she praises him like that.

"Now push the button."

He does and nearly jumps out of his skin. The vibrator shakes inside of him and he has to bite at his pillow to keep from crying out.

"Move it."

He shakes his head as much as he can while still biting the pillow. It's all he can do to leave it on. It feels so strange and so good, tingling his insides and making him feel like the very core of him is shaking.

"Move it," Erica says again. "Don't make me come over there."

He whimpers and reaches for the base of the toy. His fingers find the edge and he hesitates before slowly drawing it out. He nearly comes on the spot. His voice is loud, even muffled by the pillow.

"That's my good boy," Erica purrs. "Show us how you like to be fucked."

He pushes the toy back in and scratches at the sheets with his free hand. It feels so good. He has no idea how he lived this long without one of these.

"Push the button again."

He thumbs at the button and moans wantonly into the sheets. The pulse has changed. Instead of a steady vibration, it moves, coursing from the base to the tip in a wave of sensation.

"Good boy," Derek croons. "Such a good boy. You love being fucked, don't you?"

He nods into the pillow.

"You wish it was one of us over there fucking you, don't you?"

He can feel the pulsation through his entire ass. He's so hard it hurts. Stiles lets go of the pillow long enough to whimper "Y-yes."

"I'd fold you in half and fuck you until you were so sore you could barely walk tomorrow." Stiles shivers at the thought.

"I'd bend you over your desk and make you beg for it," Isaac adds. Stiles wants to beg. He'd beg right now if it meant he could get away with having one of them come over and fuck him.

"I'd tie you down and make you scream before I let you can," Erica says. He knows she would, and he'd enjoy every second of it.

"I'd sit you on my lap and make you work for it, see how much you wanted it," Boyd says and damn does he sound good when he's talking filthy.

Stiles can't help it. Those four images combined with the vibrator in his ass are too much for him. He comes hard, bucking against his pillow and gasping into the fabric of the pillowcase.

Derek grunts and Stiles looks up at the screen to see Derek and Isaac have their cocks out. He can guess the other two are doing the same, judging from the way their hands are positioned.

He reaches back and switches the vibrator off before it becomes too much. Pulling it out is like exquisite agony. It hurts in a good way and he wants to leave it in but at the same time he doesn't trust his dad not to want to come in and say goodnight before going to bed. That's a level of awkwardness he doesn't think he can handle.

"Excellent show," Erica says. "Would watch again."

"I think the sound effects are what make it," Isaac says. "Though much better in person."

Erica grins. "We bought a paddle and a ball gag. I can't wait to hear what he sounds like with those."

Stiles whimpers.

"We're going to make you howl, sweet cheeks."

He can't wait.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's particular kinks or scenarios you'd like to see, feel free to comment. I might not be able to work it into this fic, but maybe I can for a sequel.

Stiles is beginning to develop a greater fondness for the weekend. It's weird having so many people to do things with. He's used to it just being him and Scott, or more recently him by himself, but with the pack there's always someone who wants to do something.

On Saturday they trek out to the old Hale house. Derek's moving forward with the construction of a new house, but before that can proceed, they need to tear down the old house. The house is a wreck. Stiles has only been inside it a few times, but he doesn't remember it giving him such an eerie sense before.

"Stay on the ground floors and watch where you step," Derek says, handing Stiles a hammer. Stiles wants to joke about whether it's really a good idea to involve him in the deconstruction but he doesn't want to be left out.

"Will do."

The wolves disappear up the broken stairs to tackle the roof and upper floors, leaving Stiles alone on the first floor. He picks a wall far away from the hole where Peter was buried and then resurrected. Stiles doesn't have the muscles needed to smash holes in the walls, but there are already some for him to work around. He starts prying off boards one by one. It's hard work. The boards like to stick on nails and the wood is charred and dusty.

"It's a shame what happened."

Stiles whirls at the strange voice behind him. There's a woman standing in the middle of the room - long dark hair, kind of angular face, tanned skin. "What?"

"This used to be such a beautiful house."

"Who are you?"

She smiles and takes a step forward. Stiles backs into the wall.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you."

Stiles doesn't feel the least bit reassured by her words. "You still haven't told me who you are."

"Talia. Talia Hale."

Stiles's hammer slides from his hand, narrowly missing his foot. He stares.

"And you're Stiles. Laura's told me a lot about you."

"How... You... What..."

She smiles. "You need to trust in yourself, Stiles. You've got a very important role to play, not just in keeping my son happy but in a bigger sense as well."

"Me?"

There's a thud in the hallway. Stiles turns as Erica steps into the room. "Who are you talking to, Stiles?"

Stiles turns, pointing, but there's nothing there. "I... She was..."

Erica shakes her head. "You're so weird." She disappears back upstairs.

Stiles stares at the empty room for a long moment before turning back to the wall he was demolishing. Three boards later, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. Talia is there again, watching him from the edge of the room.

"Can they not see you?" Stiles asks, pitching his voice low to avoid werewolf hearing.

Talia shakes her head. "Only you."

"Why?"

She doesn't answer.

"What's going on? Why can I see you and Matt but no one else can?"

She stares at him, a small smile on her face.

"Why am I dreaming about Laura?"

Still, she doesn't answer.

Stiles groans in frustration. He turns back to the boards on the wall. At least that's something he can make progress on.

"This used to be our living room," Talia says after a long pause. "The children would play in here while I cooked, or gather around the TV after dinner. The windows let in a lot of light, making it seem like it was full of life all the time. Derek used to love watching cartoons on Saturday morning, even after he got too old for it to be common. He used to beg me to buy him comic books. We'd go every Sunday to the bookstore in town and I'd let him and Laura each pick out one. They'd trade after they finished reading. Derek was a fan of X-Men and Laura loved Wonder Woman."

Talia continued to talk as Stiles worked, telling him stories of the Hales when they were younger, before the fire ruined everything. It made him ache in a way he never really had before. He grieved their loss like he grieved the loss of his mother. He could only imagine how awful it must be for Derek, to have lost so much. At least he had his pack now to care for him.

Stiles knew they could never make up for the loss of Derek's family, but he wanted to try.

* * *

They worked until the light began to fade. Stiles was the first to call it quits, wandering out to the porch when his eyesight failed him. Erica wandered out to join him, sitting with her shoulder pressed against his. Once the boys came down, Stiles went to his Jeep and pulled out the cooler of sandwiches he'd prepared. Erica passed out bottles of water and they sat on the grass, eating in the dim evening light. The full moon was tonight and the plan was for the werewolves to go running in the woods. Stiles was tempted to join them, but he was pretty sure he'd trip and kill himself or something like that.

A car drove up shortly after sunset and Stiles was surprised to see Lydia and Jackson get out. Jackson looked sullen, but Lydia just smiled and marched up to the group gathered on the lawn.

"We're here to join you for the full moon."

Derek raised an eyebrow but he nodded after a second. "You're always welcome."

Jackson shuffled forward. "This doesn't mean I'm joining your weird pack."

"Okay."

"And I'm not having sex with anyone."

They all snorted. Erica was the first to respond. "No one wants you to."

"Good."

Stiles rolled his eyes. Jackson would never change.

Lydia took a seat on the steps, folding her skirt demurely around her. Stiles moved to join her as the wolves slowly picked themselves off the lawn. A wicked grin crossed Erica's face and she smacked Jackson on the arm.

"Tag! You're it!"

The wolves took off running towards the forest while Jackson stared after them for a moment, his expression poleaxed. Then Jackson followed after them. There was a loud crash in the woods and the wolves were gone.

"Do you ever regret not taking the bite?" Lydia asks out of the blue.

Stiles shakes his head. His eyes have adjusted well enough to the moonlight that he can make out the shapes around him, though not too many details. It feels a little creepy sitting at the Hale house in the dark, especially knowing there are actual ghosts around, but Lydia's presence makes him feel a bit better about it. His car and trusty baseball bat are only a few steps away.

"Not really. I don't want to be a wolf." He hesitates a second before asking "Do you regret that you didn't turn?"

"Sometimes. It would be easier than dealing with what I am now, whatever that is."

Stiles bumps his shoulder into hers. "You're awesome, that's what you are."

She bumps him back. "So are you. I know you don't hear that often, but you do a lot for Scott and the pack without asking anything in return. I don't know how you did it, but you managed to bring them all together into one cohesive whole."

Stiles flushes, glad for the darkness because it means she can't see it. "I didn't do that much."

"You did something. Erica and Boyd would have died without you saving them. Isaac almost left. Derek would have been packless."

Stiles stares off into the dark forest. "It just worked out that way."

"It worked out well."

They sit there in silence for a long moment before Lydia speaks again. "Are you in love with them?"

Stiles blinks. "What?"

"You heard me."

Stiles hesitates. It isn't something he's really thought too deeply about. The very idea of it makes him squirm. "I don't know. Maybe? Are you allowed to be in love with that many people at once? Does it even count as love then?"

Lydia turns toward him. "Yes, Stiles, it still counts."

"Maybe, then. I mean, I think I am, or I could be. Derek definitely, and Erica. Isaac and Boyd are... I don't know. I don't feel as deeply about them but I think, given a little more time, I will."

"You don't have to love everyone equally. It's okay to have some variation."

Stiles shrugs. "I know, it just feels a little unfair somehow."

A howl sounds in the distance and they fall silent to listen. A second howl sounds, a little further off. Stiles can't tell who's howling at who. He wonders if Scott can hear them.

"They seem to be having fun," Lydia says.

"They deserve a little fun. It's been a trying couple of months."

"Maybe we can all get a break for a while."

Stiles thinks of Laura's warning, of seeing Talia and Matt. For some reason, he doesn't think so.

* * *

Stiles is dozing against the railing when the wolves bound back. Erica and Isaac tackle him and attack his neck, making him flush and squirm. Lydia just laughs. The moon is high above them, shedding bright light across the clearing.

"You'll want to get Jackson home soon," Derek says as he walks closer. "He'll be feeling the effects of the full moon."

Lydia frowns. "I thought the romping in the woods was for the full moon."

"It is, but there are other aspects..." Stiles yelps as Isaac grabs his crotch. "Less public aspects."

"Oh."

Stiles wants to echo that but his mouth is currently busy being invaded by Erica's tongue.

"You can stay if you want," Derek offers.

Lydia stands hastily. "Maybe some other time."

Jackson's one of the last to walk up. He takes one look at the pile on top of Stiles and says "Gross." Lydia just herds him to the car.

Erica and Isaac pull Stiles away from the steps, shoving him down onto the grass in front of the porch. Erica disengages to tackle Boyd and Isaac takes her place, licking his way into Stiles's mouth with a single-minded intent. He hears Lydia's car pull away and then another car door open and shut as Derek gets something from his car.

Derek walks back over to them and kneels beside Stiles. Even in the dim light, he can tell Derek is ready for it. They all are. Erica's already got Boyd on his back, pants open, her mouth on his cock.

"This might hurt a little," Derek says.

"Give it to me."

Derek grins, teeth reflecting white in the moonlight. He flips Stiles and pulls down his pants. Instead of fingers, Stiles gets a slick, hard cock pushing into him in one smooth motion. He cries out, the sound echoing off the house and filling the clearing.

"As much as I'd love to listen to you scream for us," Isaac says as he unzips his pants, "your mouth has a better use." Then he's guiding himself into Stiles's mouth, one hand on Stiles's head to keep him steady.

Erica groans as she mounts Boyd and rides him enthusiastically. Derek is going to Stiles's ass with equal fervor. Claws dig into Stiles's hips. He's going to have marks there, bruises, but he can't concentrate on that. All he can focus on is the feeling of Derek fucking into him and Isaac's thick cock in his mouth. He sucks as best as he can but it's hard to keep going while he's gasping and moaning every few seconds. Mostly he just tries to keep his lips closed around Isaac for as long as he can and lets Isaac fuck into his mouth.

The wolves don't last long. Derek and Isaac come with twin howls. Derek pulls out slowly while Isaac lingers, holding Stiles onto his cock and letting Stiles lap at the flesh still in his mouth. Stiles is hard. Achingly so. He starts to reach for it, but then Erica is batting his hand away. She yanks his head back, pulling him off of Isaac and throws him to the ground before mounting up.

Stiles moans and arches against the ground as her heat envelopes him. She rides him, bucking fast and hard on top of him. He's done in seconds. There's no holding on, not when she's got her hand in his hair and her muscles are flexing around him. He comes with a shout.

Erica steps off of him and then Derek's dragging him closer, spreading Stiles's legs wide as he slides in for round two. His claws prick at Stiles's hips and Stiles can see the points of his ears, the sharp faces and ridged face. Derek's fucking him in Alpha form and Stiles finds it so hot he nearly comes a second time. His sides are going to be so scratched up tomorrow. He has no idea how he's going to explain the marks to his dad, God forbid, should he ever see them but it's worth it because Derek is going at him like it's the end of the fucking world.

Stiles's voice echoes through the clearing. His head rocks back on the grass. Erica and Boyd are going at it again, while Isaac strokes himself lazily, his eyes on Stiles like he's biding his time until he can fuck him. That's exactly what happens. Derek comes and as soon as he slides out, Isaac is sliding in his place. It burns a little. His ass is sore from being used and abused but he doesn't tell them to stop. He wants it. He's practically desperate for it. He likes knowing that he makes them feel good, that it's his body that they want, that it's him they need.

He's not sure how long it takes before they wind down. The sun's starting to come up on the horizon and Stiles is stiff and sore from being on the ground for so long. They lay on the grass, clothes askew, for a good half hour before Derek gets up. The rest of the betas follow him, and they have to help Stiles to his Jeep. Isaac drives the Jeep back to the loft while Stiles naps in the passenger seat.

He doesn't remember how he gets from the Jeep to the bed, he's just there, wrapped in the middle of the pack with Erica and Derek around him. He feels safe. He feels warm. He feels loved.


	9. Chapter 9

At his first session with Deaton, Stiles had been given a book of runes to memorize. He can't say that he has it down pat, but he's at least got it good enough to recognize each of the symbols for what they are.

"Let's review," Deaton says as Stiles steps into his office. "There are two types of magic. What are they?"

They'd spent the entirety of their first session going over magic theory. A lot of it had gone over Stiles's head, but that bit he remembers. "Evocation and convocation."

"And what's the difference?"

"Evocation is on the spot and convocation takes time." He thinks of evocation like the magic in Skyrim or World of Warcraft where you just cast and it's there. Convocation is what most movies show for witchcraft - rituals that take time and preparation to cast.

"And which is easier?"

"Convocation."

"Good. A lot of magic is based around belief and the ritual part of convocation helps center that belief. Casting a circle with mountain ash is a form of convocation. The ash is there to help you but a skilled magic user could create a barrier out of nothing."

Stiles blinks. He can't imagine the power it would take to do something like that.

Deaton pulls out a notebook and a red pen. "Traditionally, runes are written in red. There's two ways to use runes in a spell. One is to create a sentence, if you will, a string of runes that will be enacted one at a time." Deaton draws three dots, a line of three runes with two dots between each, and then another three dots. He points to the triple dots. "These mark the beginning and end of the intent." He taps the double dots between the runes. "These act as separators."

Stiles nods. He's fascinated. The thought that he could actually do magic both thrills and terrifies him.

"The other way is to combine them, overlaying the runes to form one sigil." Deaton draws the three runes again, this time one on top of another until they form a strange, complex symbol. "This is meant when all the runes are to be enacted at the same time."

Stiles stares at the two sets of runes. They're the same characters, but the intent is completely different, he thinks. He knows the runes - Kenaz, Thurisaz, and Uruz. In a line, he thinks they refer to gathered energy, directed energy, and released energy, the cycle of spellcasting. In one symbol, they are a spell in a second.

"The runes have no meaning without belief. They're just symbols on a paper. But with the right belief..." Deaton draws the combined symbol again. The paper bursts into flame and goes out, leaving a perfect singed hole where the rune had been.

"Wow."

"Wow, indeed." Deaton hands him the pen. "Now you try."

It takes Stiles most of the afternoon before he can get the paper to even smoke, but he counts that as a win.

As he's leaving Deaton's, he swears he sees Gerard Argent watching him from the cafe across the street. Great, Stiles thinks, another ghost.

He has no idea how wrong he is.

* * *

Isaac bumps into him in the hall on Wednesday. "Can I come home with you tonight?" Isaac asks. "I could use some help with Chemistry."

"Yeah," Stiles says easily. "We'll rock the Chemistry homework together."

Isaac grins at him and Stiles can't help but notice how it makes his stomach flutter. Yep, he's definitely falling in love with Isaac too. He wants to kiss him right there in the hall but he's not sure if that would make things awkward or not. Instead he looks away and finishes switching out books in his locker.

Matt is watching Stiles from the stairwell as Stiles passes to go to class. Stiles shivers and moves faster.

Isaac is waiting by the Jeep when Stiles gets out for the day. He hops in the passenger seat with an easy grin that would have seemed abnormal on Isaac's face just a few weeks ago. It's a good change.

His dad is home when they get there. He waves at Isaac, doesn't give him any of the "I had you in my jail" stare, for which Stiles is thankful. "You staying for dinner, Isaac?"

"If that's alright, sir."

John waves off the 'sir' and goes for the takeout menu. Stiles has to argue him out of getting the meat lovers. He manages to talk him down to pepperoni and mushroom, still greasy but at least slightly more heart-healthy.

Isaac makes himself comfortable on Stiles's bed and they spend a good hour going over Isaac's Chemistry homework for the past few weeks, filling in the gaps where Isaac missed things. Stiles doesn't realize how close they are to each other until his dad calls him for dinner and he nearly bumps noses with Isaac. Isaac is staring at Stiles's lips, and for a second he thinks Isaac is going to kiss him, but instead Isaac pulls away and heads downstairs.

They watch TV while eating. Isaac fits in easily with Stiles and his dad, not too shy, not too talkative. His dad seems to like him. John smiles easily and relaxes in his chair as he switches over to a baseball game.

"We should get back to homework," Isaac says.

"Sure." Stiles stands and gathers their plates, including his dad's, and puts them away in the dishwasher. "We'll be upstairs."

John waves half-heartedly at them, already engrossed in the game.

When they get upstairs, Isaac shuts the door behind them, a wicked look crossing his face. He flips the lock on the door. Stiles raises an eyebrow.

"My dad is right below us."

Isaac walks over to his backpack. "That's why I brought this." He reaches in and pulls out the ball gag.

Stiles blanches. "You don't really..."

"Open up."

Stiles hesitantly opens his mouth. Isaac fits the ball in Stiles's mouth and then secures the straps behind Stiles's head. The gag forces his mouth open, a little bit on the side of uncomfortable but also pleasant in a weird way. He likes having something in his mouth.

Isaac pushes Stiles down onto the bed and follows him, settling between Stiles's spread legs. His hand move up Stiles's legs and around to cup Stiles's crotch. He gasps, the sound mutilated and muffled by the gag.

"That should do quite nicely," Isaac says with a wicked grin that makes Stiles squirm.

Isaac makes quick work of Stiles's pants, unfastening them and pulling them down to Stiles's knees before flipping Stiles over. A hard smack lands on Stiles's ass. He gasps into the gag and his cock twitches with interest. 

Isaac soothes over the spot. "Like that, don't you?"

Stiles nods.

"Maybe we'll give you a nice spanking this weekend, when you're over at the loft and we can make you sing with it."

Stiles shivers in anticipation.

"For now, there's something else I have in mind. Pass me the lube."

Stiles gropes for the container and passes it over his shoulder to Isaac. Three slick fingers push into him all at once. Stiles drops his head down onto his pillow and moans. The sound is barely audible around the gag but he feels like it's too loud anyways, like his dad is going to hear him and come up to see what they're doing.

Isaac stretches him open, taking his time playing with Stiles's ass, fingering him in deep drags against his insides that make Stiles's hips buck with pleasure. Then a fourth finger joins the others, sliding right inside and making Stiles shiver. He loves the feeling of being stretched, loves how full it makes him feel. Then Isaac's thumb joins the mix and Stiles has to bury his face in the pillow to muffle the already muffled sounds escaping past the gag.

He could come from this alone, but he won't. He bites into the gag, trying to hold off his release.

Isaac pushes his fingers in deep, all the way to the knuckle and then further. Stiles screams as the top of Isaac's palm broaches him, stretching him wide. It hurts in such a good way. He can't help it. He comes, his body spasming around Isaac's fist. His hands clutch at the sheet and he swears his dad had to have heard that but there are no footsteps on the stairs.

Isaac's free hand strokes down Stiles's back. "Look at you taking all that in. Your ass is so greedy for it." Then Isaac does the worst thing ever – he moves his hand, pulling it out of Stiles just enough for the thumb to brush his opening before pushing it back in.

Stiles trembles against the sheets, his hands balled into the fabric as if he's holding on for dear life.

"So good," Isaac says, his voice low. "Look at you."

Stiles whimpers as the hand moves inside of him, in and out, in and out. He wants to scream but he doesn't dare make any more sound than he has to. Stiles's jaw aches from biting the gag. Every time Isaac pushes his hand in, a strangled sound escapes from Stiles's lips. He can't help it. He wants to hold it back, to hold it in, but it feels too good.

"Have you had enough? Do you want to take my cock now?"

Stiles nods frantically. As good as Isaac's hand feels, he wants his cock instead.

When Isaac pulls his hand out and slides his slick cock in, it feels like blissful relief. He's loose and stretched out around Isaac but that doesn't make it feel any less good as Isaac fucks into him. Isaac goes slow, taking his time to build up a rhythm. He keeps his thrusts short so as not to make the bed squeak too much.

Stiles pants into the gag. He can feel himself hardening again and he reaches down to grab his dick, stroking himself in time to Isaac's thrusts.

"You going to come for me?" Isaac asks. "You going to come with me inside of you?"

He nods, because there's no way he's not getting off on this. He has a weakness for being fucked and the feeling of Isaac inside of him goes straight to his core. Every thrust reverberates through him, until Stiles can practically feel it in his teeth.

"Come for me. Be a good boy and come for me."

Stiles can't disobey. He buries his face in the pillow and shouts into the gag as he comes a second time. Isaac's hips stutter, thrusting hard into him once, twice as Isaac comes in Stiles's ass. He pulls out after just a second and unhooks the gag.

"Ah." Stiles rubs at his jaw as the gag falls free.

Isaac leans down and kisses Stiles on the cheek. "Thanks for the Chemistry help."

Stiles laughs. "I think I'm the one who should be thanking you, though I don't know how I'm going to sit tomorrow."

"Very carefully and while thinking of me."

Stiles grins. "Both are very likely."

* * *

"You're in danger," Laura says in Stiles's dream. Her brown hair blows in an imaginary wind. There's nothing around them, no sense of space or location. Just white.

He frowns. "From what?"

"From those that would use you."

Stiles stares. "You're not talking about the pack, are you? They're not using me." He can't think of anyone else he's been dealing with lately who would be trying to use him, but he knows Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Derek are trustworthy. They're not quite on Scott's level of trustworthiness, but they're getting up there in his estimation. He'd trust them with his life at this point.

"No, Stiles. There are other threats lurking, waiting. You need to be cautious."

"What threats?"

"You've seen them."

"I have?" It takes him a moment to connect the dots. "You mean the ghosts? Matt and Gerard?"

"One isn't a ghost. The other is just as dangerous."

A chill crawls down Stiles's spine. Which one of them isn't dead? He could have sworn.... "Can you be less vague?"

She shakes her head. "We're not supposed to interfere. Just be cautious. Get the Argents on your side. They'll be of use to you."

Before he can ask any more, she's gone and Stiles wakes alone in his bed. He can't sleep for the rest of the night.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no sex in this part. I'm sorry. ^_~

Stiles bounds down the stairs with a smile on his face. It's Friday night, his homework is done, and he's got a weekend with the pack to look forward to.

"Bye, Dad."

John waves from the kitchen table where he's reading the newspaper. "Be home for dinner Sunday."

"Of course." Stiles texts Derek to let him know he's on the way. The betas are chomping for dinner and Stiles had promised to make enchiladas.

He gets in the Jeep and backs out of the driveway, waving to Mrs. Roberts as she walks her dog. He's two blocks down when the SUV parked on the cross-street catches his attention. It looks familiar, but he thinks nothing of it as he stops at the stop sign. The SUV's lights flick on. Stiles rolls through the intersection. He's halfway through when the SUV suddenly revs its engine, heading straight for Stiles. He steps on the gas, trying to steer out of the way but the SUV corrects for his change.

Stiles's eyes go wide and he raises an arm to shield his face as the SUV rams into the driver's side of his Jeep. The Jeep flips, tumbles, lands upside down. Stiles can't remember the impact, only the 'oh shit' feeling before and the hazy pain after. His airbag deployed, covering the interior with a fine powder of dust. He coughs.

Glass crunches beneath boots as someone walks up to the Jeep. Stiles has a feeling they're not here to help. He fumbles with his seatbelt, has to slap at it twice before it releases.

He falls to the floor, landing in broken glass and twisted metal. Something tears at his leg as he falls and he screams. He's pretty sure he's bleeding.

A hand grabs him by the collar and drags him out of the car. He screams. It hurts. He tries to fight it but he's too weak. The broken glass of the window cuts into his skin, leaving deep gashes down his back. He's dragged clear of the wreck, ending up on someone's lawn.

Stiles blinks. He doesn't recognize two of the men surrounding him, but he recognizes Gerard. His eyes widen as Gerard raises a gun. He has the split-second thought of running but he's too slow. It goes off once, twice, three times. Pain rips through Stiles and then there's nothing.

He's in the white room, the one where Laura always appears.

"Oh, honey," his mom's voice says.

He turns and nearly starts crying as he sees her there. He races forward and wraps his arms around her. "Mom."

"Hello, sweetheart."

He can't help the tears that start falling. He doesn't even try to hold them back. "I've missed you so much."

"I know, honey, but I had to go. My time with you was up."

He pulls away and nods. He understands that there was nothing they could do. The disease that took her couldn't be stopped, only slowed a little. He's thankful for all the time he did have with her. "Do you know what's going on? Why am I here?"

She kneels down and he suddenly feels like when he was a child. There's a faint glow around her, brighter than the rest of the white in the room. "You're a very special child from a very special line." A pair of pearlescent wings unfold behind her. "You've got angel in your blood and that's what saved you. It's what's been saving you."

"Angel?" He didn't even think they were real. The thought that he could be one seems absurd.

"Down the line, one of our ancestors was an angel. It shows up from time to time, but you're special. It's strongest in you."

"What does that mean?" Was he going to sprout wings and a halo?

"Only time will tell. Deaton will help you harness your power. For now, I think you need to wakeup. Your father's so worried."

"Wakeup?" Stiles blinked. "But I just got here."

She smiles and runs her hand through his hair. Then there's a flash of light behind her and he feels a sharp tug at his center. Pain washes over him, filling him from head to toe and he screams as the real world comes into focus.

There's doctors all around him. Blood. Lights. They're operating on him. Someone shoves a mask over his face and as he breathes in the gas, he feels calmer. The pain drifts away. He turns his head to see his dad hovering in the doorway.

He drifts.

When he wakes a second time, he's in a bed and his dad is there, holding his hand. He looks so worried, so sad, and Stiles feels awful for it, knowing that he's the cause.

"Hey," he rasps. His voice comes out hoarse and thin. He feels like he's floating. They must have him on the good painkillers.

His dad's head snaps up. "Stiles." He stands, surging forward to wrap Stiles in the gentlest hug ever. "God, Stiles. We weren't sure you were going to make it."

Stiles pats his dad's back weakly. He feels like he's been doing suicide sprints for a full day. Everything hurts. "What happened? I mean, I remember the car accident but after that...."

John pulls back with a frown. "Someone shot you. Do you remember anything about who did it? Anything at all?"

Panic washes through Stiles, and fear. Gerard shot him. Gerard tried to kill him, technically for a second time but this time it feels more real. He's scared. What if Gerard tries again? How many times can he keep healing himself back to life?

"Stiles..."

He doesn't even think about lying to his dad. This isn't the kind of thing he can lie about. "It was Gerard Argent."

John frowns. "Your principal? I thought he went missing."

Stiles had thought he'd been dead but apparently not. Laura's warning makes more sense in retrospect. "Not missing enough."

John's frown deepens. "Why would Gerard Argent shoot you?"

He opens his mouth but there's no good answer he can give.

"Stiles, you need to start telling me the truth. I know you're mixed up in something with Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, and Derek Hale. You have to start trusting me enough to tell me the truth."

Stiles winces. He wants to tell his dad. He's been wanting to tell his dad for ages. He almost doesn't but the look on his dad's face - so hurt and scared - stops him from lying. "Would you believe werewolves?"

John's expression changes in an instant and he glares at Stiles. "No, I would not believe werewolves. What is it? Drugs? A gang?"

Stiles tries to sit up but it hurts too much. John puts a hand on Stiles's shoulder to stop him from moving. He can't believe his dad would even think he'd get messed up in that kind of thing, but apparently that's what they've come to. "Seriously, dad, it's not like that. Let me get Scott or Derek. They can show you."

"They're outside. All of your friends are here. They refused to go home until they could see you."

Stiles blinks. "Really?"

"Yes, really. I'll be right back."

Stiles stares at the ceiling and tries not to think about the horrible mess he's gotten into. He thinks back to his dad's question and he really has no idea why Gerard Argent would come out of hiding just to wreck Stiles's car and shoot him. It seems like overkill. He remembers Gerard's threats in the basement. Maybe it's a revenge thing. He didn't get Stiles then, so he decides to try again. It doesn't make much sense.

"Stiles!" Scott practically pounces on him. Derek and John follow him in at a more sedate pace.

"Ow."

Scott pulls off quickly. "Sorry. Sorry. Are you okay? You don't look okay."

Stiles stares at him. "I'm in the hospital. Of course I'm not okay. Gerard shot me."

Scott looks to John and then back at Stiles.

"Show him. He doesn't believe me about the werewolves."

John frowns. "Stiles, really..." His words cut off as Derek and Scott shift. John jumps back, hand going automatically to his gun but not pulling it. "Shit."

Derek shifts back to normal first. "I'm sorry your son got dragged into this. We never meant for any harm to come to him, least of all this."

"It's my fault," Scott says, looking glum. "I got bitten and he figured it out before I did and then there was Peter and the kanima and... It's just been a mess."

John shifts on his feet. "Someone is going to fill me in on all of this, but before then, I need to know what's going on with Gerard Argent. Is he a werewolf too?"

Derek shakes his head. "He wanted to be, but he's not. He comes from a line of werewolf hunters. You can talk to Chris Argent to get their side of things."

"And what does he have against Stiles?"

"Hurting me hurts everyone," Stiles says. "I'm the link between Scott and Derek's packs. He threatened, before..."

"The night you went missing from the lacrosse game."

Stiles nods. "He wanted Scott to find my body."

Scott pales and shifts closer. He looks like he wants to go for another hug but is afraid of hurting Stiles.

"Well, he went after the wrong kid," John says, his expression grim. "We'll find him and put him behind bars."

"Thanks, dad."

"You'll have our full cooperation," Derek says.

John nods and steps towards the door. "I have a few calls to make. I'll let the others know it's okay to come in."

As soon as John is out the door, Derek steps up to Stiles and pulls him into a gentle, deep kiss. His eyes are glowing red as he pulls away. "We thought we'd lost you. When Scott called, he said you'd been shot, and we thought..."

Stiles pulls Derek down into a hug, even though it hurts. It feels like Derek needs it from the way he clings. Then the door bursts open and there's so many people in the room. Isaac and Boyd squeeze his hand, while Erica climbs into bed with him and holds him tight. Allison's there and Lydia, even Jackson.

He feels surrounded by love and it's an awesome feeling.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be a bit sporadic for the next few weeks since I'm getting married on the 1st and moving on the 7th.

Stiles is released from the hospital a week later and he's glad to be gone. The hospital is full of ghosts. Stiles keeps seeing them roam the halls, passing through walls and people on their way to see him. They tell him things, things he didn't want to know about their passing and the usually grisly lives they left behind. Then they reach for him and he just wants them to go away. They do, once they touch him, but it's the part before that creeps him out.

He barely gets any sleep, only when the pack is there and the ghosts avoid them. It's not enough sleep, not after he'd been shot three times in the chest and cracked a few ribs. The doctors say it's a miracle he's even alive. He knows why it's a miracle but he's not sure the doctors will understand. He barely believes it himself.

He knows he should tell the others, but he can't quite bring himself to. Every time he tries, he gets interrupted and he doesn't fight the interruption. He feels silly saying the word 'angel' out loud, like it's some kind of joke. Him. An angel. It seems so implausible.

He needs to talk to Deaton about it, find out what he can do and what his limitations are, but that's going to have to wait until he can move without hurting himself.

"I brought your homework," Scott says as he walks in to Stiles's bedroom. Stiles has been confined to his bed to rest, with the only exception being hobbling to the bathroom. His dad has gone a bit overboard making sure Stiles is comfortable and has everything he needs.

"Yay." Stiles is less than enthused to have to makeup a week worth of school, especially so close to finals. Still, it gives him something to do besides play on his computer.

Scott sits in Stiles's desk chair and spins it to face the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Stiles can't help himself. "Like I was shot."

"Haha." Scott frowns at him. "You know what I mean."

"Sore. Would you believe I miss going to school?"

Scott snorts. "I'd take going to school over being shot any day. That really hurts."

Sometimes he forgets all the stuff Scott and the others have been through because it doesn't show. They get shot and it's a temporary, if painful, inconvenience. Stiles gets shot and he's laid up for weeks.

"Still, it's amazing you're alive. We all would have been lost without you."

There it is, the perfect opening and yet the words stick. He tries to force them out. He really should tell someone. "Would you believe-" A knock on his doorframe interrupts him. He looks up to see Erica and Boyd lingering in the doorway. "Hey. Come in."

Erica practically skips into the room and crawls onto the bed, nestling into Stiles's side. She gives him a quick peck on the cheek. "How you doing, Batman?"

Boyd follows her in and kisses Stiles on the lips in greeting. Stiles feels heat rising in his face and other parts of his body. It's been too long since he's been fucked and it's going to be weeks before he can participate in anything intense.

"Hey," he repeats, his eyes following Boyd as he settles at the foot of the bed. "I'm doing okay, considering."

"I think that's my cue," Scott says, standing.

"You don't have to leave," Stiles says.

Scott shakes his head. "You deserve some alone time with your..." He waves a hand between Erica and Boyd, obviously searching for the right word. Stiles isn't sure what the right word is either. They've never really defined anything outside of sex.

"Partners," Erica chimes in. "Significant others also works."

"Sure," Scott says. "I'll see you after school tomorrow."

Stiles nods. "Thanks for bringing me my homework."

Scott winks. "Try to get some of it done instead of 'studying'," he says, complete with air-quotes.

Stiles blushes. "I can't really do much like this."

"Don't worry," Erica practically purrs. "We'll take care of him."

Stiles's blush deepens. His cock twitches in interest and despite his injuries, he hopes she has something in mind.

Scott leaves with a wave and then Boyd asks "How's your dad taking all of this?"

"Surprisingly the being shot thing greatly overshadows the whole all my friends are werewolves thing."

"So, pretty well," Erica says.

Stiles snorts. It makes his chest twinge and he cringes. "Hardly. He wants me to take self-defense classes as soon as I'm able and he keeps talking about taking me to the gun range. His theory is that if I'm going to be involved - and he knows me well enough to realize trying to keep me out of it is only going to make it worse - then I'm going to be able to handle myself. Also he wants me checking in whenever anything goes on so he knows I'm okay."

"So, pretty well," Erica repeats with a grin. "I'd say anything short of locking you up to keep you safe or moving away counts as well."

"My dad's not that extreme."

"I'm sure the thought crossed his mind."

Stiles thinks about it for a second. "Yeah, probably."

"The whole tying you up thing crossed our minds as well, but in an entirely different context."

Stiles blushes. "I think I'd be okay with that."

Erica shifts, moving to sit on Stiles's lap. "We missed you and your tight little ass."

His blush only gets worse and he knows she's doing it on purpose.

"We decided something when you were in the hospital," Boyd says.

"We're going to take you on a date," Erica finishes.

Stiles blinks. "What?"

"A date. You've only been on one and there needs to be more, so we can show our appreciation for you."

A feeling of warmth spreads insides Stiles's chest. He feels all flustered. "You don't have to."

"It's happening." Erica goes to poke his chest and then sidetracks to get him on the nose. "When are you out of house arrest?"

"I'm not sure. I'm supposed to go back to the doctor in a week and see how things are."

"Stiles," his dad shouts up the stairs. "I'm going to the store. Need anything?"

"I'm fine," he shouts back.

Erica waits until the door shuts downstairs before pulling back the covers.

"What are you doing?"

"Like I said," Erica says with a wide grin, "we missed you."

Stiles blushes. "As much as I would love... anything... I can't really...."

"It's okay. I'll be gentle." Erica's hands frame Stiles's hips and she pulls down the loose waist of his sweatpants. His cock is already half-hard and rising with interest as she parts he lips and swallows him down whole.

His chest tenses and he whimpers, both in pain and pleasure. Boyd stands from the foot of the bed and settles next to Stiles. His arms come around Stiles's shoulders, holding him loosely.

"Breathe."

Stiles does, or at least he tries. It's hard to concentrate on anything with Erica's mouth on him. Her lips look perfect wrapped around him, partly because of her cherry red lipstick and partly because it's Erica. They feel perfect too. He's barely even had a chance to touch himself since the accident and her mouth feels like heaven around him.

Boyd holds him, arms not too tight, keeping Stiles grounded enough that he remembers to breathe. He leans back into Boyd as Boyd's lips find his neck, placing soft kisses from his shoulder to just below his ear.

It's too much and just right at the same time. He's used to pounding action, to being taken and pulled apart but this is different. It feels like they're putting him back together again and when he comes, his cry stifled by Boyd's gentle mouth, it feels like he's whole again.

* * *

Stiles waits until Erica and Boyd are gone to call Deaton.

"Stiles. Hello. How are you feeling?"

"Alright." He wonders who filled Deaton in. Probably Scott. "I have a question for you. What do you know about angels?"

He expects Deaton to scoff but Deaton just rattles off an answer, like it's a normal, everyday conversation. "Immortal beings who don't often interfere with everyday mortal affairs. They work as the hands of God, making sure fate is enacted according to God's plan."

"And angels can show up on earth?"

"From time to time. They have to inhabit a human host to do so."

"And what if that human host had children. What would they be like?"

Deaton pauses. "I suppose there could be a transfer of Grace. Why do you ask?"

Stiles hesitates. "Apparently I'm part angel."

"Well." Deaton doesn't sound too surprised. "That certainly would explain a few things. I'm going to assume your line is that of an angel of death. That seems fitting with the abilities you seem to possess."

"Death? You mean there's different kind of angels?"

"Certainly. Death, War, Charity, Hope. There are guardian angels as well, warriors, bureaucrats..."

"What makes you think I'm an angel of death?"

"Angels of death hold purview over the dead. The fact that you've been seeing ghosts is a sure sign of that. Given your ancestry, you'll have an innate ability to help ghosts cross over as well as to interact with ghosts. You'll have to be careful around ghosts, however. Since you're only part angel, you'll still be weak to a particularly strong ghost's influence, at least until you learn to control your powers."

"What other things can I do?"

"Healing. Your ability to resist death likely stems from that. With practice, you could probably heal as fast as a werewolf and heal others."

That would be incredibly useful. He could use that right now to get out of being on bed rest for another week. "How would I do that?"

"Remember what we talked about centering? Find your center and you'll find your Grace. Once you learn to tap into that, you should be able to use its power to heal."

"Cool."

"Feel free to contact me if you have any other questions. We'll see what we can do about channeling your Grace the next time we meet."

"Thanks for your help."

After he hung up, Stiles stares at his phone. He can't quite believe this is real or that it's happening to him. It seems so unlikely but the fact that he's not dead is firm proof.

He's an angel.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in the midst of moving. Hopefully back to updating more after the 22nd.

It takes Stiles another week on bed rest before he's let out of the house. By then, it's nearly finals time so all his spare time is taken up with studying and helping the pack study. He's going to make sure they all pass if it kills him. Erica, Isaac, Scott, and Boyd spend more time at Stiles's house than at their own, but at least they know the material for all the subjects they're going to be tested on. Every time his dad walks in on them studying, he gets this proud look on his face that makes Stiles feel all warm inside.

June rolls around. They all pass their finals and Erica decides to throw a big party at the loft on their first truly free weekend without studying. Derek grumbles about it, but Stiles knows he's secretly pleased to have them all over and acting like a pack. It's been a while since they could do anything together, thanks to Stiles's injury and school getting in the way. Lydia, Jackson, Scott, and Allison all agree to show up. There's copious illicit alcohol, which Stiles has a feeling is more for his sake than anyone else's, until Lydia shows up with jugs of wolfsbane-spiked punch. Stiles stays far away from that and sticks with beer.

He's pleasantly buzzed by the time spin the bottle is suggested. Stiles plops himself down with a smile, feeling like this game is rigged for him. Derek, Scott, and Jackson back out but Allison and Lydia are in. Stiles watches with a smile as the bottle goes around. Allison gives Boyd a chaste kiss. Isaac kisses Erica. Then it's his turn and the bottle lands on Lydia. Stiles blushes red all the way to his ears.

"Come on, Stiles," Lydia says with a smirk. "Show me what the pack's been teaching you."

He crawls over for a chaste kiss, one eye on Jackson as he leans forward, but Lydia grabs him by the hair - its grown longer now and Erica keeps playing with it and tugging, saying that she likes being able to get a handful - and pulls him in to a deep kiss. It's Lydia. He kisses back like he would if he were kissing Erica. Isaac whistles and they pull away. As they part, Lydia gives him a thoughtful look and licks her lips.

Another drink appears in his hand from Derek and he pulls Derek down for a thank-you kiss that turns a little filthy. Stiles can't help it. He's been deprived and as the bottle goes around, he's a little thankful that it doesn't land on Allison because he can't help the deep, wet way he's kissing. Isaac nearly tackles him to the floor on their turn, which is when Erica calls the party.

Stiles pouts. He's having fun hanging out, but he's also having fun sitting in Isaac's lap chasing Isaac's tongue with his. It takes him two tries to stand up, but he makes it and stumbles over to give Scott and Allison a big hug. They laugh and pat him on the back before spinning him toward Derek.

Lydia smacks him on the ass on the way out. She's the designated driver for Scott, Allison, and Jackson. Derek talks quietly with her, making sure she's okay to get home before letting them out the door. Stiles just clings to Derek like an unsteady barnacle.

"Okay," Derek says once the door shuts. "Bed for you."

"But I'm not tired," Stiles protests as he's steered towards the giant bed.

"I know." There's a glint in Derek's eyes, echoed by the rest of the group as they converge like a starving pack of wolves.

"Oh."

Multiple hands reach out to strip him of his clothes, and before he knows it, he's naked in the center of the bed with hands and lips all over him. Erica's got her gorgeous mouth on his cock, making him writhe, while Derek works his fingers inside with some help from Boyd. He's back to kissing Isaac, but instead of the wet and filthy way they were kissing earlier, their kisses now are almost tentative, gentle.

The fingers pull out and all the others draw away as Derek slides in, slow and gentle. He rolls his hips, rocking into Stiles in a way that's so unlike anything Stiles has felt before. He's used to sex being hard and pounding and fast, but this is nothing like that. Erica moves around the bed to straddle Boyd. Stiles barely has any attention for them. He's too focused on the little gasps he makes every time Derek rolls his hips and the way Isaac feels pressed against him, softly stroking his hair and leaning in so often for a gentle kiss.

It's his undoing. Part of him wants to beg for more, for a return to the hard and fast pace instead of this slow unravelling, but his mouth won't work. Tears form at the corners of his eyes and Isaac kisses them away, muttering soft soothing sounds as Stiles slowly comes apart.

He comes harder than he ever has in his life and Isaac holds him through the whole thing. It feels like he's holding Stiles together, keeping him from breaking apart.

Derek pulls out and Stiles hardly realized he'd came, except for the wetness leaking down his thighs.

Isaac and Derek trade positions and it's all Stiles can do not to cry outright as Isaac takes over, fucking him just like Derek, like he's something precious and fragile and so very important. He knows he's important, because Derek whispers it in his ear – how they were so afraid of losing him, how they're going to take care of him and never let him go. He does cry then. He can't help it.

Erica cries out as she comes next to them, and then she's shifting, moving around to curl up on his other side with Boyd behind her. They join with Derek in petting him, soothing him through the tremors the wrack his body. Erica's hand wanders to his dick and it's more than he can take.

He comes a second time, body arching off the bed but there's four people there to catch him. He feels so safe, so protected.

Isaac pulls out and they curl up in bed, one big pile with Stiles in the middle and he falls asleep feeling worn out in the best way possible.

* * *

When Stiles finally makes it home Sunday, he's sore in all the right places. His chest hurts a little from overexertion, but he likes the way the rest of him feels. He almost makes it all the way to the stairs before realizing his dad isn't alone at the kitchen table.

Stiles pauses, one foot on the stairs, hand on the railing. "Hello, Mr. Argent."

"Stiles." Chris nods. He's drinking coffee with Stiles's dad.

"Why don't you have a seat?" John Stilinski says.

Stiles winces. That's never a good phrase. He drops his backpack by the stairwell and sits, squirming a little as it takes him a moment to find a position that doesn't aggravate his ass. "What's up?"

"Chris and I were just talking about all the things that have been going on the last year," John says. He takes a sip of his coffee. "And about his father."

Stiles shudders. He hasn't forgotten that Gerard Argent is still out there or that the man seems to have a vendetta against Stiles for no logical reason whatsoever.

"I think it might be a good idea," John says, "if you joined Allison in training over the summer. Chris has agreed to facilitate."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "You do know I'm part of a werewolf pack and they're werewolf hunters."

"I think we can put aside our differences for a while," Chris says. "The Sheriff has some good points on why we're better off working together."

Stiles resists the urge to point out that he'd suggested as much ages ago. "You think Gerard's going to come after me again." It's a sobering thought, one that Stiles is loathe to dwell on.

"The fact that he hasn't already is somewhat surprising," Chris says. "I know my father. He's persistent."

"Yay. Just what I wanted to hear."

"I know it's scary," John says, "but you need to be prepared. I don't want anything to happen to you, son."

"I don't want anything to happen to me either. I've had enough of hospitals."

"Then I'll see you Tuesdays and Thursdays at my house," Chris says. "It'd probably be wise if you stepped up your training with Deaton now that summer's here."

Stiles doesn't ask how Chris knows.

Stiles turns to head upstairs, but his father's voice stops him. "And Stiles, don't think we're not going to have a long conversation about how you're sleeping with not one but four werewolves."

Stiles flushes all the way to his toes and escapes with a startled meep. God, he's so in for it.


	13. Chapter 13

Stiles blocks the punch that Allison aims at his face and feels a small tremor of victory that he managed to block it. He doesn’t avoid the side-swipe of Allison’s leg that sends him down to the ground, but it’s still progress. At the beginning of summer he could barely block but now he’s getting better after two weeks practice.

“Get up,” Chris says. “Always watch your feet.”

“Yeah.” Stiles settles back into the ready position.

Allison launches a kick at him. He evades, throws a punch of his own that she easily blocks. He avoids the swipe meant to trip him. She punches him again and he’s too slow to block, taking a solid hit to the chest that sends him staggering back with a cough. For a moment, he can’t breathe and he holds up a hand to halt further attacks.

“Are you alright?” Allison asks.

He nods quickly though it takes him a moment to catch his breath. His chest aches more than it should, a remnant of his cracked ribs.

He slowly straightens. “Again.”

She smiles as she launches another attack.

* * *

“Get your ass downstairs, loser,” Erica shouts up the stairs.

Stiles blinks. He hadn’t expected company tonight but he’s not going to complain. It’s not the weekend and it’s rare that his father lets him spend the weekdays out of the house when he’s not working.

He stomps downstairs and catches a look from his dad. Boyd and Erica wait for him in the living room. He knows his dad doesn’t fully accept his relationship with the pack, but he doesn’t try to deny it either. Something about nearly dying has made his father more charitable than he probably would be otherwise.

“What’s up?”

“We’re taking you on a date, sweetcheeks,” Erica says with a grin.

Stiles blinks and blushes. He turns to his dad. “Dad, can I…?”

“Be back by one.”

“Thank you!” He hugs his father once before grabbing Erica and Boyd each in a quick kiss. “Do I need to change?”

“Nope,” Erica says. “Come on. Boyd’s driving.”

It’s rare that Stiles isn’t the driver and he climbs into the back of Boyd’s parents’ sedan while Erica takes the front.

“Where are we going?”

“Pizza,” Erica says, turning in her seat to look back at him. Stiles grins. They certainly know the way to his heart.

* * *

Dinner is enjoyable. Afterwards Boyd drives them to the loft. Stiles smiles. “I take it you had more than just dinner planned?”

“We do have you until one,” Erica says with a wicked grin.

They troop up to the loft where Derek greets him with a kiss, followed shortly by Isaac who puts his hand down the back of Stiles’s pants and squeezes. Stiles moans into the kiss.

“That’s enough, boys. We get him first,” Erica says. A thrill of anticipation washes through Stiles.

Boyd reaches him first and pulls off Stiles’s t-shirt. They maneuver him until he’s naked and face down on the bed with Boyd in front of him, still clothed. Boyd takes Stiles’s wrists in a firm grip, holding him tight. He’s about to comment on the strange position when a stinging slap lands on his ass. Stiles shouts in surprise and nearly jumps off the bed but Boyd holds him still. He squirms, turning to face Erica as she holds a paddle in her hands.

“I promised we were going to make you howl,” Erica says and then she swings again.

Stiles winces in preparation for the blow but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. His ass stings and the pain goes right through him, straight to his dick. He knows he’s not wired right because there’s no way this should be making him hard but it does. After two more slaps he’s moaning, his hips shifting against the sheets to try and get some sort of friction on his aching cock.

“Look at you,” Erica says. “So greedy. Boyd, why don’t you give him something to help?”

Boyd shifts up onto his knees and pulls his dick out. He transfers his grip on Stiles’s wrists to one hand and pulls Stiles up by the hair until Stiles can mouth at his cock. He swallows Boyd down and groans as Erica swats him again. His groan only makes Boyd’s grip on his hair tighten. He sucks, doing the best he can with the little space Boyd allows him while Erica turns his ass red and burning. The paddle moves down his thighs, making him jump with every smack, forcing him down onto Boyd’s cock.

He shifts his legs, parting them wider in a desperate plea and invitation.

“You want to get fucked, huh? I’ll give it to you.”

There’s a pause as Erica moves behind him and then someone’s climbing on the bed. Something hard, blunt, and wet presses against his entrance. He parts his legs wider and then it’s slipping inside, making him moan around Boyd’s cock. Boyd’s hips are moving, rolling into his mouth and it’s all he can do to keep up with licking at the hard flesh inside his mouth. He can feel Erica’s nails digging into his hips as she fucks him with the dildo. It has to be her. He remembers the harness she bought and he shivers, imagining how she looks as she takes him. The dildo drags against his insides, hard and unyielding and just right. It presses right against his prostate every time Erica thrusts in and it’s too much for him. He comes, hard, but they don’t stop. They keep using him until Boyd comes in his mouth, forcing Stiles to swallow everything down.

Erica pulls out and then Derek and Isaac are switching places with Boyd and Erica. Stiles jumps when Derek’s hands run over the tender flesh of his ass, holding his cheeks apart as he slides in. Isaac takes Boyd’s place in his mouth and then they’re fucking him again. It feels so good. Stiles doesn’t know how he lived without this for so long. He likes being wanted. He likes the way they use his body, taking pleasure and giving pleasure in return. He rocks into it, moving forward onto Isaac’s cock and then back onto Derek’s. He wants to make them come. He needs to make them come inside of him.

It feels like too long and too short all at once. Stiles swallows Isaac’s come as Derek spills into his ass. He feels wet with their seed and he likes it, likes the way it makes him feel when he’s in this bed.

He wants more of it. He doesn’t want to go home, but he knows he has to. Still, he can rest here for now, rest while the boys pull out of him and arrange themselves on either side. They roll him onto his back and he arches as the sheets rub against his tender ass. Then Derek’s kissing him and squeezing his ass. Derek pulls away and passes him to Isaac who takes over the kiss.

They pass him back and forth between them for what feels like hours, long enough for him to get hard again. Two hands settle on his dick and pump in unison, drawing out one of the most intense orgasms Stiles has ever had in his life. He bucks up into their hands, squirming as Derek runs his blunt nails over Stiles’s ass and hissing as Isaac’s fingers play with his hole. He comes, arching off the bed and they catch him, holding him down, holding him together.

“Come on, Batman,” Erica says a little later. “Time to get you home.”

He feels real regret as he pulls away but he knows his time with the pack depends wholly on staying in his dad’s good graces.

He peels himself out of bed and wipes himself off in the bathroom before dressing. He exchanges a last round of lingering kisses with Isaac and Derek before following Boyd and Erica out the door. Boyd drives him home and then they both walk him to the door. Erica grabs his ass as she pulls him into a kiss. He’s a little dazed as he’s passed off to Boyd.

His dad is still up when Stiles stumbles through the door. He can’t imagine the picture he makes, but it’s enough to make his dad shake his head. “Have a nice time?”

“Wonderful. I’m going to…” He waves towards upstairs and disappears once his dad nods.

He flops down on his bed feeling light headed and one hundred percent in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me on [tumblr](http://gryvon.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/gryvon). Prompts can be submitted [here](http://gryvon.com/uncategorized/prompt-me/). Check out my [blog](http://jennahale.com) and [writing website](http://gryvon.com).


End file.
